


Grimm

by Latsowaslonely



Category: Dr. STONE (Anime), Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: Asexuality, F/M, I figured there weren't enough of these ha, Like, Mentions of aromantism, so i wrote my own??, this is going to be a sloooooow ride, uh, you can watch your fingernails grow type of slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:42:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Latsowaslonely/pseuds/Latsowaslonely
Summary: You grew up living in the world between fantasy and reality. Who knew that'd you'd wake up to be a princess of the Kingdom of Science?Edited as of 12/22/20
Relationships: Ishigami Senkuu/Original Female Character(s), Ishigami Senkuu/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 31





	1. Prologue

The abyss felt humid. The thrum of your thoughts were loud and booming against the cool darkness. How much longer until you’re free? You think of Cinderella; Ashenputtle. She was trapped in an isolated, abusive family. Her home no longer hers. She wanted to be free, didn’t she? I mean, that’s why she cried over the grave of her mother under the hazel-tree. She got her ballroom experience. She claimed her prince; but what do you have for show? There are no birds to help you here. No tears that can be wept. All you could do was wait and hope. Maybe you should’ve paid attention to bible study. After all, if you are stuck here hoping, it would make more sense to pray for a god rather than for a fairytale ending. 

You just wanted to get out of here and go back home. In the  _ oh so great state of Texas _ . Yeehaw…

Ugh, that sounded horrible even in this empty state of consciousness. You wish you could shout with all your might and  _ talk _ to someone. Anyone! It feels so stupid. You are not a hero! You are not a damaged beggar. There is no white knight. There is nothing but the seeping, mad thoughts flickering in your mind. God, if you’re out there,  _ fuck you. _ Whoever or whatever led to this needs to get their shit together. The thump at the edge of your mind is drumming louder now. You’re wondering if that’s a sign. Santa Muerte? Are you here to collect me now?

....

Sometimes you wonder why the flash of light let you stay in this semi-awake state. You’d rather be Juliet or Snow White. Asleep. Poisoned. The taste of a slipping awareness is just too good. It’s almost addicting; and you are starving. You won’t be missing anything anyway. And they won’t be missing me. 

…

How much longer now? The seconds tick by in slow, painful agony, and you’re so tired. Tired of the thinking. Tired of the endless nothingness. Just... tired. You think it might finally be time to sleep. To sleep and never wake up again. Is there an appropriate way to say goodbye? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this is my first fanfiction. There will be a few errors and weird sentences here and there, since I'm used to writing in a vague way. I hope you guys don't mind, and if the majority of you would like that I change the pov to first pov, I would not mind in changing it. I was struggling to use one or the other lol. Thanks for reading and leave a comment please. They make my day and help me understand what works and what doesnt. (:


	2. Pink

You could see the light again. Fear twitches in the bowl of your belly, and you had to blink away the dancing vision in order to see again. You lurch forward, your body trying to heave away the lunch you disincingly remember eating before the incident. Shivering, you groan, wondering what was happening. It’s too bright, too loud, and too … just too much for you. You raise one shaky hand to your field of vision, hoping for whatever reason the answers to your questions will be scrawled on the palm of your hand. Instead, you’re dizzyingly aware of your bleeding existence. You blink, blocking away your thought temporarily to focus on the steady beat of your pumping heart and lungs. Each breath you took was lovelier than the last with the abundant inhale and exhale, and along with it, the stone shell that trapped you was peeling away piece by piece, but some of its framework was caught on the fabric of your garb. Garb that you don’t remember wearing or putting on. You wiggle your fingers again, reeling in its movement, while feeling the refreshing wind brush up your collarbone, and hearing the rustling of grass and chirping of birds. A shuddering sigh escaped your chapped lips. It never felt so good to feel the sun. Its light was cradling you, toasting you into a ball of pure and nostalgic  _ warmth _ .

This is what you’ve been missing all this time.

After marveling at your resurrection, you look away from your hand in favor of the nature-engulfed sight before you, hoping to clatch of glimpse at the surrounding area, only to spot a shadow merging with yours. Startled, you whip your head to look over your shoulders. A man towered over you. His face was covered in long black scars, and his long hair was brushing against the skin on your back. You’re lucky you’re clothed, you think, you don’t have the confidence of being able to swallow the humiliation of standing bare naked under his gaze.

“Lilith…”, his gaze was hot and his face was stoic, so you flinched at the cool intensity of his voice plucking your name, “Do you believe in second chances?”

… What?

Is this a joke? Who the hell is this guy? 

“I tend to believe. Who are you?” Your question triggered him to sidestep you in order to place himself in your line of sight. You can see his face much more clearly now. He’s quite the pretty boy, and he obviously seems to know what he’s doing in the wild, considering his garments. He reeks of overwhelming power. 

He peers down at you for a second, before turning his back towards you and keeping his long-eyed stare to the wild. “Tsukasa. Do you understand the sight before you?”

He- Ahem-  _ Tsukasa _ tilted his head towards his environment, and you quickly glanced around, soaking up the green-filled sight before it  _ finally _ dawned on you. The world isn’t as it was anymore. No concrete that hinted at the existence of civilization, but mother nature taking back a world that was hers to begin with. A few birds flap away, and you could even spot a deer down from below the cliff the two of you were standing on. Mountains and hills were coating the Earth, and you wonder, how long ago was the incident? How long ago did that light trap you and kept you in purgatory. Hundreds, thousands of years? 

“This new world has abundant resources. The old world does not compare to what is shown in front of us. What we had before was invested with the strong taking from the weak. I refuse to see humanity stoop back into the pyramid scheme from before. I plan to demolish any entity that could taint the purity of mankind,” he trailed on, not bothering to ask for any more input.

You ask, “And that’s where my second chance comes in?”, the ugly bloom of anxiety swells in your breast. Originally, you were supposed to be in Japan, heading to its capital, Tokyo, but now that’s gone and everything else left with it. Where does that leave you? You knew practically nothing of the country then, and you surely don’t know now. 

“You’ll be a part of the army of humanity. I need your skills to perfect it.” Without another word, he left towards the mouth of a cave. You take one last, long look towards your new home, and decide to follow Tsukasa. Afterall, it was better than being left stranded and alone. 

You jog towards him until you’re walking behind his every step, instinctively minimizing your presence in fear he might do something to you. But despite the simmer of fear that lurks in the lower half of your stomach, you look at your surroundings in actual awe. There was an ever-growing field of statues lined up on the sides of the mountain. All of them were of unusually strong men and women. Ironic, considering how scrawny you are compared to them, but your experience must outweigh theirs if Tsukasa was willing to free you first. Actually,  _ are _ you the first? No one interrupted the conversation earlier, and you haven’t seen anyone else, so the conclusion is a sound one, right? But, as the two of you continue to walk, you see huts on trees that stretch into the mountain and games scattered around. There was the occasional weapon, and a few footprints here and there. And as you were jumping to another conclusion, you hear a chirp from above you, and you spot a woman perched comfortably on a sleek cushion. She peers down at you, but without the crushing gaze that Tsukasa had, and tilts her head. Her long, blond hair was lying prettily on the curve of her shoulder, and she had a hand to prop her head up lazily. You can see the spark in her eye when she spots you, you notice. In that way, you’re made aware that she knows you, but you don’t know her.  _ Just perfect. _ You grin, light and bright. She visibly shudders, and sits back on her comforter. “You might not see them later on, but a few others will collect our meal for later. You won’t do anything right?”

Your smile is still on, but you feel the cold, blunt of anger slip through your mind. 

“I promise,” you say, presenting her your drawn out pinkie. 

Her smile was wobbly afterwards, but she brightens when Tsukasa walks past her and finally into the cave. You ignore her in favor of checking out your savior? Leader? Uh, friend?

Seriously, who is this guy? You begin to quicken your pace, trying to match your speed with the timing of his giant steps, and wondering what exactly will be your job in this environment. Tsukasa said earlier he needed your skills, so surely he isn’t attempting to try to create a pseudo task-force, and evidently forcing you to carry some bastards off-spring. The woman from earlier didn’t show any signs of that, anyway, but who was to know? If he’s crazy enough to spout a delusion, like earlier, you’re sure he could take advantage of you when he could. You hum; he was stupid to revive you if so. You won’t take anymore of that. 

Suddenly, a shadow swallows your form. Looking up, you had to blink in order to adjust your eyesight to the darkness inside a cave. Perhaps during your musings, you walked into a trap, but Tsukasa sat royally on a lone chair in the cave, relaxed, dignified and alone. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a few steps forward to stand in front of his makeshift throne. 

“Currently, it is 5799 A.D.,” He begins, chin tilted high, “I need you to be a source of morale, while helping to retain order.”

You scoff, and you quickly regret whatever made you do so, “Is this your way of asking me to be a whore?” 

He continues, “No, I need you to sing, as you always have been until now.”

Scrunching your nose, you begin to understand his suggestion. “So I’m being asked to be a showgirl, so the order can stay in whatever this place is?”

He nods and you suddenly have the urge to puke. Surely if he knows who you are, others will also, won’t they? 

“I’m flattered, but I’m not exactly sure how that will keep things orderly here?” You question, unintendedly flashing your skepticism. He begins to trail off in some tangent you have half a mind to listen to, and you only bother hearing him explain your position in this new land. He was prepared for your presence, it seems, considering how well versed he is among his village. The people here are aware of his philosophy, and many agree with him to a certain point, so their moral isn’t in question, but their discipline, and that’s where you come in. It makes sense now why he asked about second chances, because you truly have one now. A redo. Start over. And he’s willing to give anything to you, more than you could ever want in the past. 

More...it’s always about more, ain’t it?

“And, if I refuse?”

He doesn’t say anything, but his stare is more than enough to answer your question. 

You accept, and after another lengthy conversation, you were off on your own to explore the area. You step outside of the cave, feeling the blank numbness curl within you. You look towards the right to stare at the vacant town. You look towards the left, catching a glimpse of what you hope is a lake. Weighing your options, you take the obvious choice, and so you fully turn left. 

As you get there, the marvel of the environment wore off, and you walk towards the edge of the bank. You stare down at your reflection, noticing that you still look the same even after all these years. Curly black hair and black, doe eyes. However, you notice a swirl of black peeking over the waistband of your skirt, and that  _ certainly _ wasn’t there before. You pull the waistband down carefully -you don’t want the strings attached to the side of your thighs to go undone- and you admire the swirls etched onto your skin. Jagged, long, and in a curled shape, almost like your hair; It was practically a tattoo, barely bigger than your own hand. You sigh and roll the waistband back up. Tsukasa’s offering was tempting, but after the thoughts that swirled in your head when you were wrapped in stone were hard to ignore. The swirl was burning hot against your hip. You bite your lip, and brush one hand into your hair. You wish this time will be different. After a long moment, you get up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in the same day? fuck it.


	3. Snowdrop

Turns out, being a showgirl was easier than expected, but time here was strangely hectic. You sing, take a break, circle the area, sing again, take another break, and force yourself to play idol with the audience. The people were nice enough, but none of them were really concerned with Tsukasa’s role as leader. You’re sure the majority of them didn’t know he would’ve killed them if they were less than what he wanted. A reality you witnessed a while back. Minami would say which statue was best for what and she’d leave with a giggle and a blush pointed towards Tsukasa. After she left, you witnessed him tear apart those she hadn’t recommended or had mediocre skill sets. Ukyo was there with you, a blank look on his face. He guided you away from the scene, as he always does, but as much as he tries to give a blind eye towards the situation, he justified Tsukasa’s actions. 

You sigh, beginning your morning walk while fiddling with one of your knives. You’d perform a few tricks to woo a few passersby while you watched for any commotion. Thankfully, it seemed quite peaceful. A few men were building huts and others were preparing to scavenge. Even the women seem strangely motivated today. You spot Nikki, a woman who was revived a little after you were and noticed she was tailing the two members Tsukasa seemed keen on having an eye on. A boy and a girl, they looked to be around your age, but you figured their circumstances were similar to yours if the boss-man wasn’t willing to risk leaving them alone. You stopped playing with your knife. Going to greet her seemed like a pain, so you spun on the heel of your foot and walked away. It was time to greet your babysitter too, anyway. You carefully place the knife back in the adjacent dagger holder on your right side of your waist. 

Nimbly, you stalk upon the trees and faked a cheery greeting. A few of the residents perked up and halted their work to look up at you, and you began your ballad. Your song was light and perky, lighting up a few faces among the crowd. You spin, dance, and spill out all the stress of living in the past. 

You loved singing. It was the one thing that hasn’t disappointed you yet. A familiar. Perhaps one day, the songs you remember will be considered the holy grail to those in the future. Strange to think about it like that, really, but not too far from the truth is it? That is, if the way Tsukasa is dictating our lives will continue to stay so. Assuming it was, then it’s best to introduce the future generations what they missed out on. It’ll be a shame to let go of the beauty of music. How could someone live without it? You couldn’t. That’s why you’re here, however, to spread the joy far and wide.

Well, not just yet.

One peek into the crowd, you look to see a small crowd has formed, a pitiful amount compared to the concerts you’ve had, but something is better than nothing. Just as you ended the song, you noticed the gold-yellow rim you knew would stop by, and you winked. The audience threw out cheers, and you laughed down to the crowd. The halo disappears, and you hop towards a few branches to quickly follow his movements. As always, he discovers that he is being followed, and he begins to practically soar in between the trees. You huff and began your game of tag. 

Playing with him was fun, but, honestly, it isn’t fair that he was exceptionally skilled in navigating. His speed and quick thinking made you lose him a few times, but you’d always feel his stare. Eventually, he slows down, and you managed to spin yourself a few times in his direction to finally find yourself behind him. You catch a ridge of his cap, and deciding to tease him, you take it off his head to place it onto yours. 

“Ha, does this mean you owe us a snack this time?” You laugh, and swiftly twirl out of his range when he tries to swipe his cap back. 

“If I hadn’t slowed down, you would’ve never caught up to me,” he sits down upon one of the thick branches and lazily lays on his back. He points towards a bird a few good meters away from the both of you, “It’s your turn to catch a snack.” 

Rolling your eyes, you grab your dagger from the hilt and with one quick, clean movement, you throw the black weapon. A short  _ swish _ is heard before you hear the squawk of your target, and you raise an eyebrow at your companion. He raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. You snort in response, prancing down to your target before you begin skinning and plucking away the excess. You hear the rustle upon you, and you look up to see Ukyo climbing down the tree with a few twigs. You smile at him gratefully, and he ignores you in favor of creating a fire. It took you both awhile, but you managed to create a small snack to enjoy. 

“Considering that it took you some time before you slowed down, I’d say I was playing catch-up just fine,” You start, before sitting down across from him. You tuck up your crop top before placing your tools back into their respective pockets, “I think I’m getting better at that.”

He peers up at you and gives you a look over. You suppress a shudder. 

“Nah,” he says in perfect English, “I’m just going easy on you.”

You gasp, clutching his cap with a death grip, falling onto your back as if he had just exclaimed the most preposterous animosity. You stayed still for a few seconds, only to blurt out laughing. Sitting up, you couldn’t hold back your laughter. You had to wipe your eyes a few times when the tears would bundle up in your eyes. You were swinging his cap around as you laughed, and you heard him shout ‘Hey!’ as it almost caught on fire since you sat so close to the one Ukyo made. You stopped, staring at the hat that was smoking around the edges. Then you look at him as he yanks his hat back, and you laugh even harder than before. Stomach aching, you had to lay down again to help ease the pains on your sides.

“Has anyone ever told you that you should be a comedian?” You tease, catching your breath as you watch him pat his cap before placing it on top of his head again.

“No, but I’m sure you would’ve been one hell of an audience.”

Again, you giggle, your back arching upwards, “I’m a great audience member. You just have to keep up the good work to keep me watching.”

He rolls his shoulders and begins to lie against the trunk of the tree, listening. 

“So,” you muse, “How was my performance this time? Not bad, huh?”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, and you take that as your cue to take down the fire so he could concentrate on his job. Carefully, you sit with crossed legs Indian style, or as you’ve affectionately remembered, criss-cross applesauce, and gave your attention to the roaring fire. You hear the crackles die down as you break apart the edges of the fire and began to wave the flames away using the extra cloth you carry in your shirt. Bit by bit, the heat flushed out and all that is left are the bits and pieces of leaves and sticks Ukyo used to start the fire.

The both of you sat there for a while, and you began to hum a quiet tune to not disturb your friend. You feel safe with him, knowing he doesn’t ask much of you. When he does, it’s never with any deeper intent, you’re sure. After years of experience, it has become easier for you to tell who hides what, but then again…

You open one eye and glanced at his posture. He hasn’t moved an inch closer to you. You smile, resting on your back to sunbathe again, humming a little louder. 

“This time…,” you hear, and you turn to his attention. No movement whatsoever. “You didn’t sing a song in English.”

You perk up, gleeful for his attention. “So you were listening! It’s a song I used to listen to. It’s in Spanish, you wanna hear it again?”

You’re grinning, and he goes quiet before going still again. “You know, it’s fine if you do. Honest! You don’t have to be so shy about it,” you stress the word shy, knowing he’ll take the bait. 

“I’m just surprised a little girl like you isn’t shy singing it in front of an audience older than you.” He says, jabbing on your side with his foot to emphasize his point. You pout, rolling over so you lay on your stomach. Sure, you’re probably the youngest one revived, but that can’t be true considering the two teens you saw earlier. 

“Technically, I’m over a thousand years old, so your point is invalid. But whatever, I noticed a certain  _ pajarito _ watching me away from its usual nest. You’re going to tell me that you didn’t like what you heard? ”

He sighs, running a finger from the tip of his bow down the string. From top to bottom. You watch him curiously. A few birds flew by and a distant laugh could be heard from the villager's way back. Ukyo continues to ignore you, but unlike himself, he begins to clench a fist with both hands. You’re now wondering why you even bothered to ask. Intending to ignore the question and the heady atmosphere, you lay your head down to pretend to nap when you noticed dust on his orange cloak. At first, you figured it was dirt from the ground, but as you examine it, you see that it’s a small piece of stone attached to the lint of the fabric. Your gut swirls uncomfortably. Today was  _ Cleaning Day,  _ it seemed.

Your teeth grind together and you can feel the quizziness in your stomach tenfold. You know how much Ukyo hates those moments. You know how much he tries to excuse himself for it. The two of you may not have spoken openly about it, but the distant, disappointed gaze is all that needs to be told. Ashamed, you curl up beside him, hoping that at least your company can alleviate any of the pain and provide comfort to him, just like how his presence is for you. 

Just then, he points over the sky, “you’re going to be late for your next show by the way.” 

Blinking, you realize the sun was poking its body overhead, giggling at your misfortune. Shocked, you jump up and pat yourself clean, “O-my-gosh, I am! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought you said you were getting better at playing catch-up?”

“Yeah, at playing tag with you, not as in, surviving and scouting on my own. Or whatever you do!” You run away with a quick goodbye thrown over your shoulder, not bothering to look his way. You don’t want him to see your dreary face, because with one look you’ll be exposing all the grief you’ve been avoiding. 

Luckily, you made it to your scheduled concert. It was a great show, and you threw in another song in Spanish for Ukyo. Unlike the one from earlier, this one lasted for an hour, and you tugged a few audience members onto the stone stage. They were the few you saw acting out before your walk, so you make sure to show them off and announce their presence to the others. No one has caught on your role yet, at least those who don’t think twice about it. Tsukasa was watching from the inside of your cave, you’re sure. His stare echoes. Because of it, you couldn’t feel passionate about this concert. It felt tainted, so you’ve made sure to only sing your songs for these events. It felt wrong to sing any other under the orders from your boss. You smile and wave, acting as if you’ve had the most fun in your entire life. The end has always felt bittersweet. 

You greet a few people, high-fiving and excitedly meeting one another. An English word thrown out here and there. After some time, you had to wave away a few people, and you glided away from the crowd to make your way to the women’s quarters. Your throat is sore, and your limbs feel like jelly, but as you make your way to your respective room, Minami pops out from the area she usually lays on. She catches your gaze, and she shakily smiles. You smile back, feeling ice-cold rage burn within you. Minami flinches, nervously looking around you, as if she’s looking for an exit to her predicament. As she realizes that it’s just the two of you, her smile becomes more and more strained. She nervously laughed and began a conversation about style and how  _ oh so great your performance was _ that she ends up dragging you towards her -very much public- sitting area with all the fuss and muss. You contemplate walking away, but she waves a man to bring her lunch, and suddenly she doesn't seem so bad anymore. A few dwellers come by and leave a bowl of mixed vegetables and meat for the two of you, cheeks flushed red. She urges you to sit by her, and you both began to eat your meal in earnest. Before you could take a bite, the blond claps her hands together and chants a prayer. You stare at her for a while, wondering if she’s waiting on you to say your grace as well, but she quickly reverts back to her usual self and digs into her meal. A content moan slips out of her mouth.

She’s a little weird, you think. For someone who acts so coy, you’re most confident in her knowing your identity, since she has a clear idea of who is who and who does what. It’s like she’s a completely different person when she slips into ‘work mode’. You almost wish she should’ve kept her skill quiet, but then you probably wouldn’t be alive today and perhaps charred and dead. It doesn’t help that she’s also putty under the whims of Tsukasa. It doesn’t take you long to figure out how the boy- you still can’t believe he is a year older than you- managed to win her over. You take a bite out of your meal, not bothering to think about what was used to make it, and ate it to distract yourself from your thoughts. 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” You hear her ask. You inwardly gag, and you nod.

“I’ve been doing my best performances yet,” you say, lazily. She nods vigorously, and you aren’t sure whether to take that as a compliment or insult. 

“I’ve never liked working for my boss like I did back then. He was always slacking off and leaving the work for everyone else, while I had to slave away and work extra hard just to be able to pay rent!” 

Curtly, you mutter, “Because you aren’t totally doing the same?” 

She tilts her head to the side, a blond lock of hair framing her face. She smiles wryly, “Who else would’ve told Tsukasa about you?”

Now you’re definitely sure she knows who you are. She practically confirmed it for you. You swallow the last chunk of your lunch and give her the most dazzling you could muster. A new bout of anger and distrust clouds your mind, and you stare at her coolly. She seemed to get the message, since she lowered her head and began to play with her food. You almost want to sneer at her and threaten her with all the ability you could muster, but you can’t. Your life is at stake. Tsukasa could be watching. You stood up, not bothering to talk to her. 

Leaving her behind, you began to wonder if living like this was worth the trouble. Each step towards the musty wildlife fueling the rage that was bubbling inside of you. 

A life like this is stupid. Everything is stupid. No amount of concerts or adoration were enough. What were you thinking, seriously? You have nothing here. This world was fake and so are you. You’re stupid for even believing anything of this could bring something new. Something good for once. Gullible, insane, idiot, slut, and so much more. You’re a goddamned pet. 

You hate Minami, Tsukasa, stones, and the knockoff concerts. It’ll be better for you to leave and never come back; but you felt the glare of the sun digging into your back, and you are hazily aware that the sun will set soon. You wouldn’t survive out here on your own. You’re sure. Even if you could, someone in Tsukasa’s tribe might kill you. This is the only way of life. The chain wrapped around your ankle is tied to a phony rope of fate, and you know that Tsukasa has a hold on you for it.

You sigh, leaning against a prickly tree, worn out after the hissy fit. In front of you was a tiny valley of grass, some of it was tickling your calves. You take a deep, cool breath and you force yourself into a walk forward, brushing your hands against the grass. You tear a few pieces to play with it. Tying, tearing, repeat. You can see the sun winking, beautiful flowers, a few mosquitoes zipping away, and the brown dirt. The ground felt dry and dirty, the air cool, and the grass was prickly. You hear the distant workers, a bird calling for another, and the Rite of Spring lingering in the shadows of the forest. The smell of food being cooked was dim, along with the smell of the grass. The taste of meat that was lingering on your tongue. 

You’re alive. You’re alive and that’s all that should matter right now. You have Ukyo too. He’s your friend, companion, emotional support, and everything in between. That’s all that matters. You eat, feel, breathe,  _ sing oh god you’re singing _ , and it feels so, so good to do so. Yeah, it’ll all work out. 

Calm now, you tear one last piece of grass, and you walk your way back to camp, making sure the smile never falls off your face. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot yellow high in the trees. You ignore it and keep walking. That’s what life is as of now. Walking. Just keep walking. Don’t think, walk. You walk towards the area Ukyo seems fond of. You walk to the center of the village. You walk past Minami and the women’s quarters. You keep walking before you’re shaken awake by the booming voice coming from the guy you’re sure is the same age as you. From across the field, you see that he’s talking to his companion earnestly, and you let yourself wonder what is so special about the two of them. As far as you know, the guy was mainly used for physical labor and the girl would sew clothes for newcomers. It’s bizarre for Tsukasa to be worried about  _ them _ when he has workers like you and Ukyo running about. Maybe they’re stronger? That much sounds possible considering how the boy is able to work effortlessly. That doesn’t theory might not work with the girl though. She lacks any muscle and is almost always spending her time crafting outfits for others. Actually, now that you think of it, you’ve never seen her in the women’s quarter... or anywhere else. Where does she go in her free time? 

Instinctively, you hide behind a large boulder, and look at your surroundings for Nicky. She was nowhere around, and you remember that Tsukasa would definitely not be back to his brooding cave for a while also. You might get in trouble with Ukyo, but he hasn’t told the boss anything, considering how much you laze around work. He might scold you later, and you feel a little more reluctant to spy on the pair, but you hear the girl wave her friend goodbye, and all caution is thrown out the window when you notice she’s tightly holding onto a bag that is perched under the amount of fabric she is carrying. It looked heavy, and you were curious now more than ever to get to know her, or at least see what makes Tsukasa so weary of her. 

You decide to follow her, hiding your presence among the wildlife. She turns towards a direction you weren’t expecting. She was heading away from the village and into a more secluded area. She enters a cave- not unlike Tsukasa’s. It was smaller, sure, but it practically screamed ‘confidential area: keep out’. You tiptoe nearer, unsure now if this was a good idea. A part of you is hoping Ukyo pops out and drags you back to your post, but a smaller, mischievous side is begging you to take one peek. You childishness wins, and you sneakily poke your head in. 

You peek in, inching closer to the mouth of the cave. At first you were unsure what you were looking at. She had her chores before her, fabric clean and pristine laid on the floor. She gingerly picks up a piece of the material to see her speed her way through her work. In the most bizarre, inhuman way you've ever seen, she made a bundle of clothing in a matter of seconds, and you had to blink away the surprise etched on your face. What in the actual god did you just witness? How did she even do that?? Hello???

But just as you were letting the sight settle in, you notice her packing her work away, reaching for the bag you were curious about instead. She stands up, leaving her cave to go further along the path to reach another space. By now, you’re more than willing to leave and let her be. It could be private, and it’s already weird enough that you’ve stalked her this far. 

Biting your lip, you couldn’t deny that you wanted to know about what made her so special. Not in the jealous sense- you would never want Tsukasa’s attention that he gives to this pair- but to understand the cards she has. Her strengths, her weaknesses, everything. 

She enters this new cave, and all you see are statues. Statues were lined up on the wall, completely taking space from the back of the cave. She opens her bad to reveal the rubble perched inside, and it dawns on you. 

She’s…rebuilding statues. 

You take note of all the rebuilt statues lining up on the sides of the cave. She’s in deep thought. Gluing, connecting, reconstructing. This is practically ridiculous. You can’t believe…. 

She’s indirectly fighting against Tsukasa. A man who reeks of raw power. The anxiety was resurfacing. But unlike before, it had a ripple of true fear being thrown into the mix. You duck under a few bushes to give yourself space. It’s just....you can’t believe someone has been doing that this whole entire time. Isn’t she afraid? Won’t she worry that someone will find her and expose her? What will they do with her once they find out? Oh my god, they’ll _ kill _ her. Wouldn’t they? It was like it didn’t matter what would happen to her. She didn’t seem concerned about her surroundings. She was so focused, strong, vulnerable.

You begin to breathe too hard. The ground is spinning and each breath is bringing in a wave of doubt and disbelief. You're clutching the bare dirt, fighting against a puke. Sweat was forming, and your knees were digging into the ground. The wind was howling, birds screeching. Everything was too much. All of this was too much. A dry sob escapes your mouth. You have to report this. It’s your job. If you don't, she’ll be caught soon anyways. It was better to get it over with. The bare floor was now roughly digging into the skin of your knees, and your fingers were shaking from the force you were pushing into the dirt. You can’t fathom why she’d do this. Tsukasa is too strong, too watchful, too cautious. 

_ Too powerful. _

You scrunch a mouthful of your shirt to your mouth and began to take even breaths. This girl is crazy, that’s all. She’ll learn her lesson soon. You will avoid her as you had until now, and make sure to never cross paths with her. Ever. Carefully, you slowly stand up and walk away from the girl’s lair. This isn’t your problem. It’s hers. 

When you leave and return to your dwelling to fall asleep, you stare up at the rocky ceiling. You stroke your neck, feeling a poison apple lodging in your throat. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote way too much, so I had to cut it into two parts. As always, please leave a comment and tell me what you liked or didn't! Both are valid in my work.


	4. The Star-Money

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got inspired lol. The usual is said for this chapter also, and i'm very grateful for the comment that was left in the last chapter also. I hoped you enjoy this one, since I thought of you while I was writing it. Also, if you could, I suggest listening to Judy Garland's The Trolley Song. It doesn't matter if you listen to it before, during, or after; but I encourage you to listen.

You ate breakfast with Tsukasa. His quarters were larger than yours, but you weren’t complaining. There was a kip-like bed farthest from the table you were sitting at, a makeshift work table by its side that had the corpse of an animal on top of it. You could hear a guard or two outside, and you weren’t sure if that was to keep you in the room rather than keeping others out. You sat a little straighter when a woman came by, numbing your legs in the process, and she placed down a bowl of, uh, whatever it was in front of you.

A part of you wanted to groan, but you held it back once your leader began to eat. 

It was an awkward affair, especially since Minami was sitting across from you. Her blond hair was resting on her back, and her back stood straight as she sat on her legs. Her customized cushion is noticeably softer than yours or your other company. She was gushing at Tsukasa, as she always does, but today it felt like she was mocking you. Only her side of the table was filled with giggles and small-talk. Yours felt cold.

Chewing slowly, you subtly wiggle to bring the circulation of your legs back, and you prayed that time would speed up. You tried to eat casually, really. Mechanically, you swallowed whatever you could, granted that you were inexperienced at using chopsticks, but no one seemed to mind when you ate with your hands instead. Despite that, you can still feel the occasional heat of the long-haired boy’s gaze on you. He’s expecting something from you. You aren’t sure what exactly, but you act ignorant of his eye on you in order to avoid acknowledging his sudden interest. Thankfully, Minami managed to gain his attention about statues and whatnot, and your shoulders relaxed a tad. 

But luck was not on your side, he dismisses Minami, who gives him puppy dog eyes, but doesn’t go against his orders, soon the both of you were alone in his room. A spike of anxiety prevents you from eating. You became numb. You forced yourself to not feel. If you don’t feel, you don’t think. 

“I’m going to revive someone today.”

Don’t feel. 

“They will assure me of a matter I have kept at bay for a while now.”

Don’t think. 

“You will go with them to ensure a man of science, Senku, is gone. Once you meet him, I need you to find and see if he’s dead.”

But the dread was slipping out of the anxiety, “And if he isn’t?”

“Kill him.”

The daggers on your sides were burning fire; and you’re sure that once you take off the holster belt, your skin would peel right off. Kill a man. The inevitable. Time began moving a little too slow. All you could do is feel the ba-dum of your heart beat heavily against your chest, but all you can do is stare at Tsukasa. He, too, was staring at you, but for confirmation rather than fear. Neither of you were moving.

“Of course,” you say. He nods his head, switching his gaze from you to his meal, and you force yourself to swallow the bile threatening to crawl out of your throat. 

You quickly excuse yourself, deciding to opt out of breakfast today, bowing awkwardly. He allows you to leave, and you walk through the twist and turns of the base area. To shake off your nerves, you slide your thin fingers alongside the wall of rock. You could hear the subtle  _ shwee _ of your long nails scraping the mineral. A guard or two would come across you, and you smiled a smile with too many teeth. As you get closer to the mouth of the tower, you could hear the sounds of life outside becoming clearer and clearer. You croak out a quick tune, and you decide to visit Ukyo again. 

You climbed your way up a nearby tree and decided to skip your morning routine in favor of meeting your friend. Climbing up, you could feel the summer heat coating your skin in a warm blanket, and when you reach the top, you’re sweating just a little bit. The view was always worth it, you think. You could see people walking in and out of the stone tower on one side, and mother nature in the other. A view Ukyo must always see. 

Sighing, you tread upon the thick branches one by one. There was no need to rush. It was not like he had anywhere else to go. You let your feet rest on the stiff platform, and you can almost feel it dig into the sole of your foot. Whistling, you allowed yourself to close your mind and just feel. The summer was nice. The wind felt like a warm water bottle under the heat of the sun. Not satisfying, but not undesired either. The branches felt cool, surprisingly. Your feet tremble over its touch. Your fingers would brush against the leaves, making you shiver. 

Your shuddering was worsening, and you have to lay against the trunk of a tree to make sure you don’t fall. Your senses were sinking, and it was clawing up your head and splitting your head in half. You felt like you were falling, and all you could do was heave. Breakfast was bubbling in your stomach. Your skin felt dirty. Dread was leaking. It was leaking out flaps of guilt and shame, and all you could do was holding your hand against your chest and will your heart to stop pounding. But the  _ thud-thump  _ was grinding against your ribcag e . You close your eyes. 

_ ‘Once upon a time there was a little girl whose father and mother were dead, and she was so poor that she no longer had any little room to live in or bed to sleep in, and at last she had nothing else but the clothes she was wearing and a little bit of bread in her hand…’ _

You told yourself a story, covering your eyes so you could force yourself to imagine a little girl. She had short brown hair, brown eyes, and a swirl on her left arm. Pretty, naive, and she looked a lot like the girl you liked to avoid. The protagonist of your bedtime story got her happy ending, because stories like those always do, and that’s what you needed right now. A happy ending. You weren’t interested in reality right now. 

You opened your eyes, and you felt lighter. You stroke your arms with your hands, finding comfort in your touch. The worst was over. It’s ok now. You can handle this, like always. You rub your eyes, fighting a yawn. You let yourself fall onto the branch, back against the wood, and you let your limbs swing back and forth. Moments like these are what made you glad you grew to be petite. The before wasn’t desired, you think. You count the seconds. You reach number 36 before you hear a quiet whistle to your left. 

You seek it out, listening to the familiar tune only you would only know of. Sitting up, you look at your surroundings, black hair flapping around. You couldn’t really pinpoint its location, but you’ve only let one person listen to this song, so it couldn’t be anyone else but Ukyo. As quietly as possible, you stood up. You made sure to carefully tiptoe from branch to branch, and you briefly wonder how ridiculous you must look to an outsider. It doesn’t take you long to spot the vibrant yellow ahead of you, though. You freeze, unsure if he heard what transpired moments before. He hasn’t made any movements whatsoever, thankfully, aside from whistling.  _ Pajarito, _ just who you wanted to see _.  _ He was quite good at duplicating the song, you think, despite hearing it once; you hummed it at the time too.

Does he sing it to himself often? It would be pretty flattering, if he did. That day, you were hanging by his side as you always did, lying on the grass, head resting on his knee as he was sitting beside you. You can’t remember why you decided to sing, but the mood felt right and you were bored, so what else were you supposed to do? You began humming, tapping out the beat on the base of Ukyo’s knee. He looked curiously down at you, but you could see the ghost of a smile on his face and that was enough for you to know you did a good job. 

But damn. Must be nice to have the skill to mimic a song so easily like that. You smile softly, gratefulness blooming. Taking one large gulp of air, filling the bottom of your stomach, you bellowed:

_ With my high starched-collar and my high-topped shoes _

_ And my hair held high upon my head! _

You see him flinch from your loud voice, eyes wide, hands clutching his bow and arrow. His eyebrows were flushed together, one curved upwards, and his lips were set in a thin line. You wanted to laugh, but you continued Judy Garland's  _ The Trolley Song _ . Or, tried to, until you couldn’t hold it any longer and you burst into a fit of giggles. Making sure you didn’t fall, you held onto the edge of the branch and peaked underneath your bangs to look at him. He clearly didn’t appreciate your laughter considering how he frowned deeply at you. Gasping for breath, you carefully make your way towards him until you are breathlessly laughing by the end of his feet. 

“I thought you had a singing career?” 

His mocking goes over your head, and you echo back, “And I thought you didn’t care?”

Despite acting cool in front you, he swings his legs over the branch to make room for you. You raise your eyebrows to act surprised, but you slide right into the space before he could swing the back. 

“Ok, I’ll be serious this time,” you promise, hunching your shoulders back and looking up at the baby blue sky. You sang the song once more, acting out the love-sick girl Judy was. You vibrantly sang the song, feeling elated. Judy has been always a favorite of yours as a kid, and that hasn’t changed as you grew up. It felt nice to know someone else liked her song. Maybe not to the extent as you did, but close enough. You animated each verse and chorus, determined to express love to Ukyo through actions just as much through song. 

You finish the song, hands clasped together. Breathing deeply, you face Uyko, blushing madly, but smiling wide. Really, the corners of your cheeks were starting to hurt. He never once looked away from you, and you could see  _ something _ swirling in his green eyes. Amusement? Mischief? You didn’t know, but it filled the corners of your heart with warmth. 

“So?”

He taps his foot on your thigh, and hums as if he were a judge in a talent show, “I’d say a five out of ten.”

You wiggle your shoulders, mockingly determined, “There is always next time,  _ Pajarito _ .”

“Would’ve been nice to know it was a love song,” he says, and you stick your tongue out at him. Honestly, he’s so weird about the dumbest things. 

“You never asked. I usually like to keep my audience in suspense,” you pose like a diva, one shoulder poking out while you batted eyelashes, “And you liked the song regardless, so you shouldn’t complain.”

You lean back, hooking your knees onto the tree to anchor you. You let yourself swing a few times, and you chuckle at the memory of Ukyo flinching. You wished you could’ve taken a picture of it. The two of you sat in silence, and you hum another classic in hopes of witnessing his perplexed expression again. This time, you hope he whistles to  _ Just The Way You Look Tonight _ . 

And then, he perks up and you could see the spark of alertness in his posture. Tight and rigid. His head whips to the right, and he swiftly went towards the east, his bow and arrow set up in his hands. You decide to follow, but without any intention to interfere. Moments like these were rare for you to witness, since he seemed so in tuned with the noises coming from mother nature, so you’re sure what he heard will lead to something exciting. Perked, you followed him. 

You trailed behind him as he hopped from branch to branch with ease, and you noticed that the both of you were heading further away from the center of camp, so now you’re really sure you were in for a treat. He jumped a few more times until he came to a sudden stop, and you almost leap towards him on accident if he hadn’t grabbed your arm on time. His sight was trained onto a beast a good distance away from you, and truly, you couldn’t tell what it was. It looked small compared to the width of the river it was standing by, and it had its head tilted downward. It looked like a black spot compared to its green and lush surroundings, and you weren’t sure what was so special about it. 

Frowning, you tap nudge his arm, “Are you hungry or something?”

He shakes his head, and lines you up in front of him, careful not to get too close to the frail side of the branch. You raise an eyebrow at him, but carefully look down towards the animal again. It was black, had a tail, and four paws. Big deal. You stare at it for a while longer, watching it drink from the river. It lifts its head and- 

“It’s a dog!” 

A quiver of delight ignites within you, and you hop off to get a closer look, ignoring Ukyo’s hushed warnings. You rush towards the dog, a vibrant spark of excitement lighting your steps. And as soon as you get close enough not to disturb it, you squat down so it won’t see you; You practically vibrate in place. From up close, you can see it’s a Labrador. Holding back a squeal, you observe its shiny fur- wet from the lake- and the red-copper eyes reflected in the water. They were young, since they were shorter than an adult dog and you take note of its paw in the lake to steady itself; so you’re sure they were born very recently. They have to be at least a month old, maybe a bit older. You can’t imagine it’s mother leaving their side, but it usually happens around that time if you recall correctly. The puppy shook its body to dry itself, and you took one step closer to admire it. A loud  _ crack _ erupted from the branch you stepped on, and the puppy stopped from what it was doing to bare its teeth at you. You wanted to beat yourself with a stick the moment you exposed yourself, but very quickly changed your tune when you noticed the puppy in a fighting stance. You cooed, in awe with the puppy. 

“You’re so  _ cute _ . I love you so much already, aww,” you whistled to gain its attention, and it automatically wagged its tail. A thrill of glee zipped up your spine, and you encouraged the puppy closer to you with a few more whistles and kiss-y lips. Clearly, the puppy was over the moon, and they peed a little from excitement before it jumped up to your knees, arching upwards so you can touch them. Slowly, you try to savor the moment of bliss that erupts within you when you touch the surprisingly soft fur. With gusto, you pet them while cooing for their attention. They licked whatever they could reach, causing you to giggle; but they bowed their head, and eventually twisted their body so they could lay on their back and expose their flabby tummy. 

“And you’re a boy!” You laugh, and you give him a tummy rub, grinning when they begin to kick their legs when you reach a certain spot. 

“It could have fleas, you know.”

You look up, and blink in surprise when you notice Ukyo was standing a few feet away from you. When did that happen? You smile, pointing at the puppy as if it was his first time seeing it. “Don’t be like that, _ pajarito _ . Aren’t you at least a little bit excited? It’s a  _ puppy _ . God, how can you not love him?”

He’s stiff when you drag him towards the puppy, and you have to hold his hand captive as he attempts to ground the heel of his foot into the ground. 

“Please let me keep him,” you beg, “I swear I’ll take care of him. I’m great with dogs, I was friends with many of them before any of this happened.” You spread your arms wide to emphasize the environment around you, and he takes the hint when he shakes his head in disapproval.

“We should go back,” and the cap-wearing workaholic walked away from the scene as if nothing happened. You snicker, carefully slotting the puppy into your arms so you could follow Ukyo. 

“Awe, at least pet him. He’s adorable!”

You force the canine into his arms, and he wrapped his arms around it instinctively, but not without a yelp of surprise. You playfully ignore the glare he sends your way. He secures the puppy in his arms before hesitantly petting the pup with stiff movements. It wasn’t until the puppy sniffed his carrier that Ukyo smiled softly. 

“Oh my god, are you smiling? You totally are. I knew you liked  _ Satanas _ ,” Puffing up, your chest with pride, your gait becomes a skip.

“Like  _ who _ ?” He asked, rubbing Satana’s ear. You laughed awkwardly, not wanting to tell him what the name meant. You play with the puppy’s tail as you think about a way to not reveal the meaning. 

“Well, he has dark fur and red-ish eyes, so I named him  _ Satanas _ ,” you smile to reaffirm your statement, and he nods his head as he passes the puppy back at you.  _ Satanas _ didn’t seem to mind, thriving on the constant attention the two of you were giving him. His tail wagged excessively, thumping against the blades attached to your hip. His head was resting in the crook of your left arm, and you couldn’t help but rub your forehead against his short mane. Ukyo would occasionally lean closer to you to take another look at  _ Satanas _ , brushing the side of his arm against yours. It was funny seeing him imitate the tower of Pisa. You smirked when his hat slipped off his head and landed on yours. 

“If you wanted to carry him, you could’ve just asked,” you say, swaying your head to mock him. He plants the palm of his hand on top of his hat, and you assume he’s about to rip it off your head, so you tilt your head towards him. Instead, he rubs your head, and you screech in shock. You tear your eyes off  _ Satanas _ to look at him as if he were a madman, and you whine when he does it a second time. And a third and a fourth.  _ Satanas _ must’ve assumed it was a game, considering how many licks he gave you during the process and the ecstatic whips of his tail that swipe your exposed waist. 

“Ugh, stop, this isn’t funny. I like my hair.”

“I know you do. I see you brush it whenever you think you’re alone.”

You slap his forearm, rolling your eyes at his comment. But you looked up at him, and his expression is back to the same one he always has when he witnesses Tsukasa’s bail of destruction. Pursing your lips, you look through your file of conversations-to-avoid-destroying-the-mood in your head, and you nudge his shoulder to get his attention back. 

“You know, if we raise him properly, he could easily help us with our jobs,” you start, “Well, my job anyway. He’ll add to my charm. Oh, we could be mascots!”

You cheered, ranting about the different performances that could be played, and his stony face was becoming more and more amused as he tried to follow your thought process. You eventually run out of things to say after commenting about creating matching outfits, when you began to whistle a song. Ukyo’s tensed shoulders lowered slightly at the familiar tune. Acting naive, you tweet the familiar song, and stroke  _ Satanas’ _ fur in time with the beat. He relaxed too, and lay dormant in your arms on the way back to base.

“Do you think they’ll let me keep the puppy?” You ask, keeping who ‘they’ are vague. 

He glances at the puppy, and then down at you, before he shrugs. “Maybe if they decide they aren’t hungry enough for him.”

As if on cue,  _ Satanas _ squirms and leaps off your arms, and you immediately try to reach for him again. He dodges your arms and runs circles around you. 

“Now you scared him,  _ and  _ we're already back. Seriously, you have the worst luck,” you groan, as you wave your arms towards the sight of camp growing.  _ Satanas  _ barks before running a few feet away, squatting so he could do his business. 

You wrinkle your nose, and looked away to give him some privacy. Ukyo, in the meantime, goes back into position to resume his scouting. You follow him, knowing whatever worried him earlier was easier spilled out of everyone else’s hearing. You sit beside him when you reach him, and you swing your legs back and forth. “So? What’s eating you?”

He peers at you under the rim of his hat, and he says, “I just wasn’t expecting to see a dog around here.”

You nod, “Me neither, I guess, but that doesn’t make it weird right? Dogs are animals too.”

It’s fair for Ukyo to be bewildered, but it’s not like  _ Satanas _ did anything wrong. For a dog that hasn’t seen humans in years, he seemed to be healthy. Ah, wait. That’s what's strange, isn’t it? If dogs became feral after the petrification of humanity, then surely they would’ve remained feral unless they were tamed. Now that you think about it, when you volunteered at a dog shelter, almost all feral dogs were wary of people. Back then, you were trained to build proper relationships with them by learning the types of behaviors to avoid- at least that’s what you remember; but you didn’t have to do that with him. You also didn’t see any other dogs with  _ Satanas _ , but his fur was well-maintained and he didn’t seem helpless or afraid. He was happy, if not, downright excited to meet humans. 

You look down at him, like earlier. He was rolling around in the grass, finding the perfect position to nap to. Ukyo catches your attention by tapping your foot with his. 

You speak first, “Hey, you don’t think-?”

“I don’t know.” His tone was clipped, and you knew better than to deny it. If there were people, or something like humans, out there, you’d want to see it to believe it too. 

“But, don’t you think we have a chance, even if it was slim?”

“This could only be our way of life, you know. If whatever is out there could guarantee a life that could provide for all of us, then I’ll think about it. Okay, kid?” 

You wanted to ignore him and his cup of wisdom. Being here was tiring. Mentally and physically. It could be easier to simply leave and look for a tribe of some sorts, but you have a limited set of skills; and if Ukyo, a man you’re sure has a list of skills longer than yours thinks he can’t make it and survive, then what does that mean about you. You can’t complain here because you’ve been watching others carry the heavy lifting and produce homes and food, when all you’ve been doing is prancing around like some jester. This is bliss compared to the harsh nature could provide. Tsukasa’s face flashes beneath your long eyelashes, and you’re forced to steady yourself on the branch. The cool wind under the summer sun felt like hail slicing your skin when you imagine what you’d do if you disobeyed him. He mentioned a man earlier. Senku, a man of science. 

Senku must’ve done something before you awakened. Did he disobey Tsukasa and that’s why you were ordered to kill him? Or did he conspire a revolt among others with him as a leader? He couldn’t have domesticated dogs either. That takes years to do, and from what you could tell, Tsukasa only recently awakened others during the beginning of the summer. Ukyo was among the first, and you right after. Unless there was a revolt and the previous group decided to leave, but it wouldn’t have made sense to ditch him. A revolt always ends up with a leader's head attached to a stick. 

Regardless, your assumptions towards your boss seemed true after all. He asked you to kill a man so simply, as if he were asking for you to fetch him a glass of water. Tsukasa knows something, and you’d like to find out if your life wasn't on the line also. 

“Don’t call me a kid. Why don’t you ever call me by my name?” You change the topic, not wanting to risk yours and Ukyo’s life. 

He stares at you before he hides his face underneath his newsboy-like cap. He doesn’t say anything more. 

“Wait, do you know my name?” You ask, disbelief tickling your voice. You gape at him, wondering how he hasn’t any clue of your name when you learned his almost as soon as you met him. You twist your torso so you have more access to peek under the bill of his hat, “Hey, what’s my name?” 

“I dnt kn…,” he mumbles, and you creep forward to tease him a bit more. He sticks his head out of his neck, and just barely utters his confession, “ _ I don’t know _ . And it’s not like you say mine.”

You lean into his shoulder and laugh, amused by his embarrassment. “It’s Lilith. Actually, just call me Lily, that’s what my mom used to call me.”

Ukyo sinks his head back to rest, and you were going to tease him again until you heard the very loud, very alarming bark under you. You yank your eyes to see  _ Satanas _ barking at a man who was carrying a roasted pig towards the center of the camp, and you jump down to save yourself a predicament. But  _ Satanas _ was quicker, and he ran off towards the man’s direction. ‘Oh no, ’, you spit out, as you’re forced to chase after him. Your feet dig into the ground, and you’re sure you have a cut or two, but that is nothing compared to a possible punishment Tsukasa may have available.  _ Satanas  _ continues to bark, gaining the attention of practically the whole audience. There are gasps, a few yelps, and distant ‘what duh?’ as he runs straight for his target. His target finally realizes he’s being chased, and he runs around also to avoid the dog. Now the three of you look like a comical circus act as you all run in circles to catch (or avoid) each other. 

You begin to sweat. Due to anxiety or from the run, you aren’t sure, but you don’t have much time to think about it until  _ Satanas  _ runs up a slanted rock and jumps to his reward. Instinctively, you swing your arms back before you tilt your body and arms forward when you jump. You secure your arms around  _ Satanas _ , and you land gracefully on your feet. You hold the puppy by the chase so he could face you. He pokes his tongue out, breathing erratically. 

“I can’t believe you made me run around like an idiot for you,” you tell him, fully aware events like these may occur again, “I should’ve given you something to eat earlier if I knew this was going to happen.”

They squirm in your hold, uninterested in your scolding. You gently placed him down and watched him run up to the same man who stood frozen away from the both of you. You ask politely for a piece of meat to give him, which he gave to you gladly. And as you feed your new friend, you hear the growing murmur of the people around you that you elected to ignore earlier. You look up, noticing the crowd dispersing, and Tsukasa stands tall and foreboding. He stands at the edge of the ring of people, and he looks at both you and your canine companion. 

You stand and bow your head, as you have seen others do when you first revived, and you stare at your toes that were coated in dried blood. He walks towards you in a slow gait, and you make no attempt to meet him halfway. When he stands before you,  _ Satanas _ wags his tail, a piece of the meal you gave him hanging on his mouth. 

“What’s his name?”

You force yourself to look up, your back aching to take a good look at him. 

“ _ Satanas _ ,” you answer. You place your hands behind your back and you play with the tips of your dirty nails. 

“I was wondering why you seemed distracted recently,” you dig your nails into your hands so you don’t lose the neutral expression on your face, “Next time, tell me directly.”

“Of course, thank you,” you say, overwhelmed by the attention he gave you today. Distracted? Me? 

“Come,” he commands, and he sticks his hand out for you to take. You imagine yourself slicing it off with one quick, swift of your dagger, but instead you place your hands on top of his. He guides you to the area you usually avoid,  _ Satanas _ in tow, and Tsukasa has the decency to walk slowly for the both of you. As you three go through a few twists and turns, you spot the girl you usually avoid. She smiles, tugging up her bag of sins, and you ignore her. Not long afterwards, you reach your destination.

You three were in the area you revived in not long ago, and you could hear Minami sighing due to Tsukasa’s presence. She quickly gains her composure, however, when he makes his way towards her to ask her a few questions, but you focused your attention on  _ Satanas _ , who was sniffing a few statues, to truly listen to what he was asking. Minami, eventually, began examining a few lined statues. You aren’t sure why he led you here. He never asked you to participate before, or anyone but Minami. Anyone else would just happen to pass by or would come by to watch when they noticed the leader’s composure. 

Before you knew it, Minami picked out one statue. He had fairly normal facial features, but his defining feature would be his hair. One side was longer than the other, and you almost wish your hair would look just as nice. His form was lithe, sadly. You doubt he could win against a fight among the men here. He was also crouched, as if he were about to fight a lion, like Tsukasa seemed fond of doing, if the rumor about that were true. “If you need someone capable of reading psychology, you should try Asagari Gen! I’m sure you two know each other since you two came out in the same special, but he’s previously released a few magazines about the psychology of people, so why not give him a try?” Minami smiled brightly. 

Eventually, your deranged boss agrees with her decision, and they move the statue towards the edge of the cliff you awoke in; and you feel your toes curl in anticipation. This was the first statue you will witness crack open. Tsukasa poured the liquid onto the newly-placed statue until the stone was weathering down. The feeling was surreal for you. It was like witnessing the birth of a child. A new miracle. Piece by piece, the cold layers were dripping down his body, until he took one large gulp of air. Eyes wide, head shaking. 

You wonder if your birth was as swift and clean as his. 


	5. Briar Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh hi?  
> *looks at calendar*  
> sorry im late? I promise I meant for this to take two weeks but...here we are. Gen was so difficult to write. I read so many fanfics just to see how others tweaked his character, but damn its a lot of work; and I wanted to get the mood right....sigh. But I'm done beating the bush, the next chapter is actually shorter and I have it figured out. (: this time it won't take two months to type out. But hey I wrote over 10k, so pls dont hate me too much. I recommend to listening to mama by raveena once the scene starts playing out. Worked for me.

A few days have passed, and Gen has made himself right at home. He is calm, kind, and chipper. To everyone else, at least. After his eye-glazing birth, you left the scene with a half-baked excuse of preparing items for your new friend, and have been steering clear out of Gen’s path. Seeing someone- anyone, really- being resurrected sent chills down your spine. It’s wrong to keep people imprisoned in the shell-like stone, yes, but Tsukasa’s intentions were making your head spin. He wants an empire held up with people with ‘pure’ intentions, but is willing to revive those who have the power to fight and be a part of his make-shift army. You have to give him some credit- you overhear a conversation between two men who were debating whether you or Minami was cuter while making your second round for the day, _Satansas_ following in tow- he clearly understood that people under a certain IQ wouldn’t dare break out of his comfortable fortress; and clearly the popularity from his past life was tied to his leadership now- two guards were having an arm wrestling match by their post, one trying to overpower the other while spitting out insults.

Unlike the others, Gen seemed to accept the circumstances with ease. As you watched him from above, sometimes with _Satanas_ and sometimes by yourself, you let yourself study him. He got along with others, and kept his composure despite the abrupt change of lifestyle. He was supposed to go with you to seek out Senku too, so that adds to your people-I-probably-shouldn’t-be-around-for-my-mental-and-physical-health list; but he was also more attentive than others. Occasionally, you would spot him ease his way out of work. As if it were second nature, he’d convince whomever was near to pick up the slack for him without a single fuss or groan. Slyly, he would pass the time away by Tsukasa’s throne. His skills must be worth it, if the boss was truly letting him get away with that.

Currently, he’s babbling away with Minani in her usual setting. They both talked animatedly- he would wave his arms around and she would smile and babble along to whatever he was saying. Seeing the two of them act as if they didn’t have a care in the world vexed you greatly, since there is almost never a moment where you don’t feel like you’re trapped. Perhaps it’s the teenage angst talking, but you’re sure that you’re doomed to live out the rest of your days under Tsukasa’s thumb. 

“Jenni-san?”

You redirect your attention to a woman who waved a bowl-holding hand in front of your face. It was the same woman -you aren’t sure of her age, and at this point you’re afraid to ask- who always seemed to be around when you needed someone to run an errand for you. You were thankful for it, especially since she was quick at her job too. Too bad you never learned her name properly. You weren’t exactly sure if you were pronouncing it correctly, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she looked thrilled when you decided to learn it. She had a bowl of water in one hand and a basket with a weave of cloth with strings of leather and makeshift edge tools in the other. Without missing a beat, you smile at her and reach out for the items; but not without sending her a quick thank you and a bow you’ve learned to mirror for these situations. 

“Thank you, Noshino.”

She smiles in kind, beaming from the attention, and left when someone else called for her assistance. 

You placed the drink down onto the ground- carefully so it wouldn’t topple over- and lightly rolled the fabrics in your hand to relish over the material. _Satanas_ , eager as always, doesn’t hesitate to dip his head into the bowl and lap up the cold liquid, his paw placed inside the container. Chuckling, you rest beside him, hiding under the shade the trees provide, and set out to begin a task you were hindered from doing due to the time your job consumes. But, today was an off day, thankfully. It took you four days to muster the courage to ask, but after fantasizing about the materials you could make for _Satanas_ , you just had to ask for one. Placing the items on a flat rock adjacent to you, you twist your hips a tad to retrieve the head knife and two D-rings you managed to snag from a man constructing weapons from your holster. You grin at the ideas spinning in your head, and it doesn’t take you long to dive into your projects. Making a dog collar was a top priority, so that was the first D.I.Y. you chose to tackle.

Carefully measuring the different sized leathers on _Satanas,_ you chose the few pieces that you were sure would suit him perfectly. Giddy with anticipation, you didn’t even mind when _Satanas_ began to chew on the edges of your skirt. Without a moment to waste, you take your time cutting the end points of the collar, and you take extra care to not create any errors involving the wedges for the D-rings. You use the edge pieces to help scrape off the bluntness of the collar, so you could keep it clean and round. Afterwards, you replace the leather with the cloth, and you carefully sew it around the collar to create a simple padding. It doesn’t take you long to add a few finishing touches, but you constantly compare the curved length to the width of _Satanas’_ neck to ensure he wouldn’t choke when you put it on him. That is, if he finally stops squirming or biting you. You just know you’re going to find him attempting to chew off his collar. You make a mental note to make an extra one. Just in case. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t take much time to complete the collar, but it is evident that you needed more practice. The padding was uneven and you could see your inexperienced marksmanship in the sewing. The D-rings were also tilted awkwardly and the leather was cut in odd places. It looked good on him though. The brown of the leather combined with the white cloth stood out against his dark, black fur, and you wish you could take a picture of his bobbing head attempting to tear the accessory off. 

You sigh. If only dogs can stay tiny for another year, but a pup will only be young for so long. Then they’ll grow big enough to be half your height. A fact you were bitter about, but it’s childish of you to feel jealous over a dog’s growth spurt. With a nudge of your foot, you topple him over, exposing his soft tummy. You smile, taking the chance to give him an affection rub. He attempts to bite you, but you’re quick to deflect when he sees his chance to strike. His ears bounce, flopping over his eyes with each kick of his paw; and you couldn’t help but giggle at his misfortune. 

It would be nice if the days were always this forgiving. You lay down next to _Satanas_ , under a blanket of shade. Crossing one leg over the other, you lay one hand on your stomach and the other on _Satanas’_. The tree rustles, and you watch the ripple of the leaves and branches. They’re dancing over you, gleefully. Well, you aren’t one to leave an audience hanging. You sing:

_When you first left me_

_I was wantin' more_

_But you were fucking that girl next door_

_What'cha do that for?_

_When you first left me_

_I didn't know what to say_

_I never been on my own that way_

_Just sat by myself all day_

You laugh at the absurdity of the song you picked. Out of all the songs you know, this is the one you chose? Really? 

_I was so lost back then_

_But with a little help from my friends_

_I found a light in the tunnel at the end_

_Now you're calling me up on the phone_

_So you can have a little whine and a moan_

_And it's only because you're feelin' alone_

You wiggle in place, bob your head, and air-tap your foot. You raise the hand on your stomach to flamboyantly wave it in the air, giving the song an extra flair. It was difficult not to immerse yourself in the scene of arguing with an ex and claiming revenge on him. It’s a fun topic. 

_At first, when I see you cry_

_Yeah, it makes me smile_

_Yeah, it makes me smile_

_At worst, I feel bad for a while_

_But then I just smile_

_I go ahead and smile_

Fuck you, imagenary ex. 

_Whenever you see me_

_You say that you want me back_

_And I tell you it don't mean jack_

_No, it don't mean jack_

_I couldn't stop laughin'_

_No, I just couldn't help myself_

_See, you messed up my mental health_

_I was quite unwell_

You repeat the chorus two more times until the song ends, and you arch your back with a content hum. Ah but what to do next? You roll onto your side, almost squishing _Satanas_ in the process. He squirms, fighting for freedom, until he finally lays against you comfortably. You adjust his collar. 

Well, you already did what you really wanted to do, and it’s still morning. Surely, there is _something_ bound to entertain you. Just then, a flash of blond appears under your eyelids. Ukyo. Ukyo would be fun to hang out with, but you wanted to be with your puppy friend for a while longer. All you’ve done is take him on walks, and he needs actual play time. You’ve already made some free time for him, you might as well spend it that way. No wait, this is the perfect time to teach him some new tricks! You sit up, excited. 

Without a moment to waste, you use some of the remaining materials to whip up a few chew toys for _Satanas_ . With a few twists and knots, you complete a set of toys in under ten minutes. Or what felt like ten minutes. Thankfully, you don’t need to use the tools given to you- you would rather practice some more with other material, and preferably with a teacher to guide you. You pass one chew toy to _Satanas_ , eager to see if he appreciates the fruit of your labor. You watch him tentatively sniff the toy, curious. He daringly nipped at the edges, as if it was going to explode onto him. You smirk. Swiftly, you snatched the toy off the ground and began to play with it. _Satanas_ , not one to be one-upped, ran after the hand that took his toy, and began a chew fist on the meat of your arm. You hiss, making sure your displeasure in pain was evident in your frown. Carefully, you release your arm out of his jaws. You began to toss the toy here-and-there just to see if he’ll try to chase it, and so we don’t have a repeat on your arm. His copper-eyes stared at the toy, unmoving, but eventually he was prancing around, greedy for actual playtime. The two of you began to play like this for a while, circulating the toys with each other, so _Satanas_ wouldn’t get bored. It was nice to see him so excited over a toy ball. It'd be nice to have one of your own.

Yeah...like the ones you and your cousins used to make when yall lost or wrecked the ball. Then again, those were made from plastic bags. Oh but it shouldn’t make a difference, the technique to make a ball would only be tweaked a little. All you need is larger fabric, a pouch, and some rope. Then voila! You can’t believe you haven’t thought of it before. Quickly, you pack up whatever you had into the basket- including your head knife and holster- with a whistle for _Satanas_ to follow you. With each step towards the base of the camp, you search for Noshino, or anyone who you’ve seen near Noshino, so you could ask for extra material. Oh man, this would be perfect. Imagine if you could play soccer again? The wind whipping against you as you run through the field, the wild drum of your heartbeat, cheering when your team scores. It’ll be perfect. 

It took you a while to spot her, but you had _Satanas_ on your side to bark and run after her. You follow him with measured steps, making sure you don’t come off too needy. The both of you converse- if you could call charades that- and she handed you the pouch, a few torn clothing, and lengthy rope without any fuss. You smile at her gratefully, bowing a little lower than usual. She waves off your appreciation, and instead asks you if it’s alright to sit with you with a point of her finger; so now the two of you are sitting on a nearby rock to begin the lengthy process of making a soccer ball. She helped in creating a shape for the ball, while you made sure the rope was wrapped securely around it. It took the both of you a couple of tries, since the ball would fold in itself, but nothing a few extra slips of cloth wouldn’t fix. She would frown when it did, but you nudged her jokingly, acting angry with her when the ball would dent. Noshino would smile, shyly nudging you back. And so, when the both of you have made a brand new ball, you couldn’t help but squeal with happiness. It was larger than what you intended it to be, but it was better than nothing. Better done than perfect, right? 

You whoop, high-fiving a flustered Noshino. You hop off the rock, positioning yourself in the middle of the field, so you wouldn’t disturb others. You give the ball a couple of kicks, testing its durability, while effectively drawing a crowd to see at what you’re doing. You avidly show off a couple of moves you were taught when you were younger, making sure not to overexert your skill set. It’d be embarrassing if everyone knew you only knew a few tricks.

Among the crowd, it didn’t take long for a group of girls to join your duo, pointing towards the ball and at the both of you. Noshino spoke with them, nodding her head with whatever they were saying. You stepped behind her, letting her do the work, monitoring _Satanas_ so he wouldn’t harm anyone or vice versa. The wag of his tail was evident of his happy demeanor, as he was playing with a few spectators who took a liking to him. You’re glad no one is allergic to dogs. That’d suck if someone was, because would that mean you’d both be kicked out? 

Noshino called out to you before you could think about the random scenarios popping into your head. She attempted to speak to you in English, but you could see that she was struggling, so you shook your head. Instead, you pointed towards the girls and the ball between their group and your duo, and you tilted your head with a scrunch of your eyebrows. She nodded, relief reflected in her smile. Next thing you knew, you were playing soccer with them. You were practically vibrating with joy, the large smile on your face growing till the point it hurt, but this was great! Amazing! _Yes!_ You felt like a kid again. 

There was laughter in the air. Everyone was having fun, running around and egging each other on by cheering or booing with each score. Some of the spectators were even singing anthems. To what? Who knew but them. _Satanas_ was in the fun too, but he was mostly chasing the ball, so he wasn’t interfering with the game. Noshino was sweating, clearly unused to exercising for this long, while some of the other girls were barely working up to their limits. You tease the brown-haired girl by swiping the sweat on her forehead. She turns towards you, blushing mad and babbling words you could barely make out. You smile at her awkwardly, but not unkind. It was cute to see her this way. It was rare for the both of you to be together this long, but it doesn’t mean you didn’t like her company. You could say she is one out of the two friends you have. You wonder if Ukyo is jealous. 

She ducks her head bashfully, and suddenly you have a clear view of Gen at the other side of camp. There in the distance, you spot your assigned partner standing in the shadows. The smile on your face falters. He wasn’t looking at your group, unlike the onlookers, but you could still see the grim look on his face. His eyes were dim, as if he were a predator stalking his prey, and he quickly turned his back towards you, leaving. There was no hesitation in his actions. Nor fear, questioning, anxiety. Nothing. It’s almost like he has no attachment with his reality and all of what was happening was a mere fantasy. You clench your hands, ready to turn away yourself, but not too far away, you see Ukyo too. He wasn’t watching you either as he usually does. He was watching Gen. And as Gen left, he did too. 

What’s going on?

You feel a tap on your shoulder, and you turn to see Noshino and another girl looking at you worriedly. You smile faintly, trying to relax your suddenly-tense shoulder and jaw. You ask if it was ok to leave, by pointing towards Gen’s direction and making a crown sign. They all knew that the crown meant Tsukasa. They smiled too. Noshino volunteered to watch over _Satanas_ , and you thanked her as you left. 

You follow Gen. 

If Ukyo thinks that guy is fishy, then how should you act when it is time to set off and be together for who knows how long? It could take days- maybe weeks- to find Senku. This is ridiculous. You carefully walk among the people that criss-cross your path, to ensure Gen wouldn’t be able to spot you following him. You mutter a few hello’s, wave or smile at others, and laugh to play the part you were given; but the purple dot was becoming more of a distant dream, and you were desperate not to lose him. You walk into the mass of trees to create a shortcut, using the shade to hide your presence. Too bad the heat from the sun was still baking your skin, you swipe a thin layer of sweat off your neck. 

It must be midday by now. 

Foolishly, you make an effort to continue stalking your...opponent- for a lack of better words- but he ducked last minute, and you lost him among all the overgrown shrubs. You huff, cursing your luck. The overwhelming green scenery was supposed to make it easier to spot a person, not harder. You continue to follow him east, anyway, where you last saw him going. You shove away plant life, hopping over rocks, and ducking under particularly low tree branches. 

_CRASH!_

You froze. Your heart was pumping loudly in your ears, you’re sure they will pop. Tentatively, you walk one meter forward. There was a rumbling beat that was echoing louder each step you take, and you frown, unsure whether where you were going was worth the risk of seeking out. The rustling in the bushes was whipping with force, and you hastily left the forest-like area, making sure no beast was there to eat you. Unfortunately, you wished it was a beast that got you. 

Tsukasa has his back towards you, raising one long arm up in the air before crushing a small statue in mere seconds. He was a thundering force bulldozing anything in his path. 

The crack of statues were erupting in the air. You could feel each strike pulse at the ground beneath your bare feet, like feeling the bass vibrate through a speaker. You could hear a chorus of trumpets blare among your thoughts, along with a guitar and drums. The scene around him was distorting, and you notice the ground warping into a hellish pit of fire. His flowing aura was slicing the surrounding air, and if it weren’t for your frozen state, you’re sure you would’ve been torn apart. You wanted to scream. 

Demons were roaming. The arch of his back was beckoning them. The pounding of his fist was inviting them to dance with him. His dance of insanity. You could hear the gospel singing, slicing open your stomach to spill the stones tucked away in your gut. They tumbled down, pounding. You look up. The sky was a bright, baby blue. Cloud free. 

His forearms would stretch from the force of his crushing aim. The veins would pulse beat-by-beat. His long hair would fly free, bewitched, his cape not far behind. If you convinced yourself long enough, you could almost imagine him as a prince. Almighty. Tall and strong. The protagonist of every fairytale. But instead of being cursed under a spell, he curses others. He’s the big bad wolf playing the role of a grandmother. He’s the queen impersonating a frail, apple-carrying old woman. He’s the step-mother convincing her husband to abandon his own children. 

_SMASH! Crrrack._

You helplessly watched him destroy another statue of a child. Their smiling face was charred from the force of impact. You aren’t -and don’t wish to be- a hero, and you don’t want this to be a fairytale either; all fairy tales diverge from sinister origins. They cackle at their story’s happy endings, and jeer in between the lines of the story. They bleed ink and white rabbits with red eyes. They sit with their legs propped up the table, gazing at others with a jeering grin. They don’t care what you think about them. They don’t care what you feel. They sit upon tragedies of forbidden text.. ‘Read me!’ they say,‘Who will know?’

The book covers were always an inch off the bookshelf, enticing you. They beg you to slip your hands onto the hardcover and flip the pages open. They smell of old paper and dust. The words were mixing, colliding, blending together to engulf your mind with gore-numbing sentences and cheap endings. The Queen is forced to give away her child, little red gets eaten, and the beanstalk’s giants eat their freshly found snack.

_SMASH._

...Right.

So much for second chances.

Abruptly, much so that you’re forced to jerk your thoughts to the back into the present, you are tugged away from the ear-splitting commotion. A yellow shadow blinds your view. Ukyo, you realize- the getup, hair, and frame was unmistakably him- guides you behind him, tightens his grip on your wrist. The warmth of his presence bites onto your cold skin. You look up at his heaving, broad shoulders to peek at his face. He was gazing at Tsukasa like you were moments before, a blank expression masked on his face. You don’t let your sights wander to the constant echo of rumble surrounding the both of you; and you don’t force Ukyo to let you go either. The hand behind his back, with its neverending grip on you, trails from your wrist to your hand. His hands were sweaty. As much as you wanted to recoil from his space, you let yourself sink into his dizzying heat, and you lay your head tentatively on his shoulder.

But as quickly as he came, he swiftly changed his demeanor and steered you away from the site. You stumble behind him, depending on the hand attached to your arm for balance. The atmosphere surrounding him was bleak and wounded up with so much tension that you were afraid it was going to snap at you. To distract yourself, you focused into the touch of his hand, and let yourself be blindly taken to where Ukyo wanted to be. Thankfully, it didn't take long for him to lead you into an area not far off of camp to safely tuck you away in clustered grassland. But you didn’t expect him to suddenly stop, so you bump into his back with a yelp.

“When do you leave?”

Surprised, you jerk your eyes to the back of his head. He was so tall compared to you. He could easily rest his chin on your head with no hassle. Which isn’t fair, really. Girls stop growing around their mid-teens, but guys can still grow past that age. You already had your share of growth and it already wasn’t much. For all you know, Ukyo could still be growing taller by the day. Actually,shouldn’t Ukyo be much older than you? I mean, he was in the Navy, wasn’t he? You’re sure that’s what you heard from snooping around, so you guess that he’s probably in his early to mid-twenties from his looks. He could practically be as old as what your sister was before any of this happened; and you’re becoming alarmingly aware that this was a _man_ holding your hand. Your hand clamps up against his now-limp one. This isn’t wasn’t a little boy, but you’re very much a little girl. You’re sixteen. A sixteen year old girl who sang music for _other_ teenagers, not for people his age! You’re nothing but a baby compared to him. Ok, not a baby, but you’re much younger. You can’t believe you were so casually accepting his company, and giving yours back! Is this weird? Does he think this is weird? Is it too late to ask? What the fuck is happening?

“Hey,” he shakes your arms. You tug your chin upwards, taken aback by his shift in posture. He’s staring down at you, green eyes glistening with concern. You hope. Your hands felt empty and cool. His large, _manly_ hands were, anchored on your dangly arms, and you shakingly took a breath of air. This is wrong on so many levels. “Hey, look at me.”

You lick your dry lips, ignoring him, “I think I need to sit down for a bit.”

He frowns, probably fighting back a quip, but he says nothing to demean your statement. Instead, he gently maneuvers his hands onto your shoulder and helps you sit down on a patch of prickly grass. It was comfortable, you admit, but you were completely on edge with his hands on your shoulders to truly appreciate his kind gesture. The warmth that was there before was now a boiling sting that was melting your skin. He helped you sit you on your knees and you flinch at the contrasting coolness of a boulder sitting on your left side. Slowly, you bring your legs to the side to relieve the pressure on them as you lean your side onto the rock. You scrape your thin nails on its surface, anxious and eager for relief.

“I’ll be back,” he detaches his hands from you, sticky like gum, and takes one long look at you before going off to who knows where. You sat there, bewildered. So much is going wrong. Gen, Tsukasa, and now Ukyo. But here you are, sitting on your ass and staring at the green grass. You could leave right now. You could leave and never come back. There was no one to stop you. What was Tsukasa going to do when you leave? Revive another person to kill you too? How stupid. Someone was out there anyway. 

Senku, you think. God, his name is like a prayer now. _Senku_ was out there, and you want to find him. It could be better than how it is now. A clean fresh start. A real second chance. A real chance with another boy-possibly-man!

You pick at your nails. Boy trouble wasn’t supposed to be so life-threatening. 

You should really be giving Ukyo more credit. If it weren’t for him, you’d probably go crazy by now. No one to truly talk to. No one to hang out with. No one who could possibly understand you. Ukyo was what helped you keep going. He kept you afloat. On days where you felt like you couldn’t leave your cot, knowing he’s somewhere in camp helped alleviate the apathy that would try to swallow you whole. He didn’t mind if you poked fun at him or that you skipped work sometimes to laze around with him. The banter between the both of you was refreshing, and it felt so good to talk to someone like that after so long. It was like finding your reflection again among the shards of a mirror. 

Then again, you were never completely honest with him…

Unless, he did know and decided you were a threat he wasn’t willing to let loose. He could be holding back after all this time. You could turn your back and BAM. He’ll kill you too. 

You groan, knowing full well it was your indecisiveness whispering into your ear. Ukyo doesn’t deserve the slander you’re pouring onto him. You’ve been friends with him for about a month, and he has yet to do anything to you. He hasn’t harmed you, hasn’t threatened you, and clearly hasn’t tried to do anything beyond a kind companion. He had _never_ laid a hand on you, nor has he done anything that you were remotely uncomfortable with. He kept an eye on you and let you accompany him while he scouts. He didn’t have a before or after to compare you with. He met the you you were certain others would be burdened by, and hasn’t left your side since. 

Your gut was telling you to trust him. And when has your gut ever been wrong?

Yeah, it’s a little weird how accepting he was of the bond between the two of you. And that he’s probably the only person you hang out with and vice versa. And that you tease him as much as he teases you, but that’s normal. It’s normal to hang out with people you like. Completely normal. Nothing weird.

...

But why? I mean, what type of guy hangs out with a girl younger than him and who has a past that even Tsukasa was eager to exploit? Frankly, you don’t know anything about him either. So wouldn’t it make more sense to ask yourself why _you’re_ hanging out with him?

But before you can spiral down another rabbit hole, you hear the unmistakable crunch of footsteps, and you flush your thoughts away. Ukyo comes back with a boar-like animal in hand and some twigs and torn grass hooked on his elbow. He sets up a fire for the both of you, effortlessly, and you watch him prepare a meal step-by-step. It takes a while, but after he’s done with the basics, he sits across from you, back hunched and an arm supporting his frame on his knee. Now you’re both watching the fire cook a simple meal, as if you both haven’t witnessed a deathly quiet massacre. The orange tinge from the fire blends with the green of his iris. The silence between the both of you was churning, and you never were good with silence.

“Can I ask you something weird?”

You shift your position, trying to look as casual as possible. He nods grimly, never looking away from the fire. 

“Can I tell people that you’re my brother?”

His eyes practically bug out of his eye sockets, and his spine practically snaps from the force of sitting up. 

“ _What?”_

You scrunch your face together, unsure what he said. Guess he wasn’t able to translate it to English from the shock. You lean forward, repeating your last question while emphasizing each word with a slow drawl. He still looks as equally confused as he did before, and if you weren’t feeling like shit, you probably would’ve laughed. 

“Why?” 

Because you’re so awkward. Duh. 

“Well, what if I make a friend, and they ask who you are to me? I can’t just say you're my babysitter or whatever. That’s embarrassing. And you’re practically a brother to me. I mean, aren’t I the perfect little sister?”

You say your piece with the flair of a diva, and a flick of a wrist. Honestly, you had no intentions of calling him a brother, but it was better than the both of you sitting in the awkward silence. It was hovering over the two of you like a rain cloud, and you had no desire to be rained on. Really, he should be used to your antics by now. You used the same script you always play for these episodes. You bet he’ll frown and decide to curve your attention away from the topic, but what you didn’t expect was for his head to tilt thoughtfully. The gears were turning in his head, and a bubble of disbelief was popped in your chest. 

He stared at you, his eyes now a shiny gold-brown from the sky above which was milking from the midday light to a hazy orange. You stared back, and could see your reflection with his eyes. You were the shadow of his light. While his skin was fair -how is that even possible? It’s the middle of summer- yours was a dark copper-like tone. His hair was blond-almost-white and his eyes were pools of emeralds. Your hair and eyes were both black. It was funny, really. If he lived in America, you could imagine the things they might’ve said to him. A halfie. Gook. White-washed chink. It’s nothing new. You’ve experienced more than a handful of these interactions. You were lucky that you grew up in a Chicano-centric area, but once you begin touring, it was easy to rupture the illusion of safety you grew up in. Ultimately, hearing others explain the bigotry of your country isn’t the same as experiencing it; and deep down, you wonder if Ukyo has experienced it in his home country also.

You idly twirl a lock of your curly hair, coiling it until it pops out of your hold. Calling him your brother wouldn’t be so bad, you think. You’ve always wanted an older brother. It would be fun and it would help air out the relationship the two of you have. Two birds and one stone. Plus, no one would believe the two of you were related. Adding a dash of charm to the both of you. And by the way his eyes flicker between you and the fire, maybe- just maybe!- you'd be allowed to. 

“Fine,” he said, and he zeroed in on the fire, definitively. 

You blink rapidly. “Fine? As in sure-I-think-of-you-as-a-sister-too fine or a I’ll-just-agree-to-whatever-you-want-so-you-could-stop-asking-me-this-stupid-question fine?”

“Fine, as in fine.” 

A beat of perfect silences dooms the both of you, and the next thing you know, you’re laughing hysterically. You jerkingly bow your head low, curly hair falling in waves to cover your face like a curtain. You plant the both of your hands on the ground to steady yourself, and you're practically _heaving_ . The only thing assuring you don’t fall over was the boulder, but even then you feel the heel of your palm sliding on its surface, dragging you low on the ground. You could feel the redness of your cheeks bloom down your shoulders, and you’re sure you look like an overripe tomato. The grin on your face is splitting your face into two, and your cheeks ache form the pressure. You peek up at Ukyo from behind the curtain of your hair, just to make sure this was all real, and he has a deep frown on his face. He looks like he stepped on _Satanas’_ shit. You holler at the imagery that planted itself in your head. 

“Oh god,” you say as you try to recollect yourself, coughing once or twice, “I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect that. Wait, do I need to call you, uh, _onii-chan_ or something? I rather not. We don’t call our siblings ‘brother’ or ‘sister’ from where I’m from and my japanese is super bad. I’d rather keep calling you _Pajarrito_.”

You plant yourself against the rock with a single puff. “Oh, but it’s totally ok if you want to call me your sister back by the way.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, his face morphing between discomfort and disbelief from the conversation. 

“I’m not kidding! You could brag to everyone that I’m your sister.”

The heat was coming back, but in gentle waves this time. It was ridiculous for you to even doubt him to begin with. So Ukyo wouldn’t notice, you smile behind the back of your hand.

“Does it seriously make you this happy?” 

Whoops, cover blown. 

“Yeah,” you say, slipping your hair over your shoulder to play cool, ”Does it make you happy?”

“I feel alright.”

You roll your eyes, already familiar with the pattern of his speech. Tapping your foot against his, you ask, “Why can’t you just admit you are? You don’t have to be a hardass about this.”

He snorts, as if he were expecting your dramatics, “I’m not a hardass.”

“You _so_ are. It’s not a bad thing, sure, but at least be honest with me. Actually, you know what I should do to commemorate this special event?”

He lifts his finger up, mouth open to respond, but you cut him off before he got the chance, “I should make clay earrings for us! It’ll be super cute, even if I have no clue how I’ll even find polymer clay, but that doesn't mean I can’t figure it out. You’ll have to pierce your ears though, and I’m not sure you’re up for that. Wait! I should make some chevron bracelets! Oh but I’ll need dyed thread, and I have no clue how to do that either. Ugh, this sucks. I guess I’ll stick to leather, but whenever I can, I will make the chevron ones. They are super cute, and no piercings needed. It’s a win-win. Yeah?”

A ray of ideas spark in your head, and you’re already imagining the color patterns that will match Ukyo’s outfit. Blue or green would fit best, you think. The color should also be aligned with your beige outfit, since you want to make matching bracelets. Too bad you didn’t have a steel pot to dye linen with, so the both of you are stuck with plain white in the meantime. You check out Ukyo’s outfit, toying with the ideas in your mind. The girl you like to avoid made his attire, and you acknowledged her skill, since it was on another level than yours. Unless the material was like that to begin with, you wonder how she managed to dye his outfit an egg-yolk yellow. Or the other colors you’ve seen. Actually, how is Minami wearing a red dress? 

“Why would you assume I want to wear earrings?”

“Well, I’m not going to assume you’re not. Earrings look cool,” you cross your arms, puffing up your chest with the arrogance only someone your age could muster.

He gives you a skeptical look. “Earrings look cool?” 

“Yeah?” You ask, reflecting his expression, “I had a bunch of them.” You angle your head to expose your left ear. It was littered with piercings. Three on your lobe, one on your anti-tragus, another three on your helix, and two on the rim of your ear. You trace the piercings, feeling naked under his fixating eye. He whistled lowly, giving you an impressed look.

“Did any of them hurt?”

You bark out another laugh, “Yeah, most of them did. But I like them anyway. The first chance I get, I’m going to find myself a pair to show off.”

“You seem the type to have huge earrings,” he mutters, reclining against a stump behind him, using his index finger to draw a large circle in the air. 

Smiling, you nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! I love the way they swish around, you know? But I like simple designs, since they fit my outfits better that way. My favorite earrings were a pair of dangle earrings, like the type that looked like a one string of metal. They just look so nice. I had one that had stars at the end of the chain, and they were so cute, ugh I miss them.”

Wistfully, you flick your earlobe. Ukyo hums, as if agreeing to your testament. “I can imagine it.”

You giggle. “My earrings?” 

“No. I can imagine you window shopping. You’d space out once you find them, and you’d stare at them until you decide they’re pretty enough to buy.”

You blink, stunned. It was a little unnerving how easily he had you figured out, because you _were_ window shopping that day until you came across your favorite earrings. They were cushioned on a plush jewelry box on a cherry-wood counter, all silver and pretty. They were winking at you from their spot alongside other jewelry. You hesitated for only a few seconds that day, since your family was a few bills shy of eviction and your career had barely taken off, before deciding they were worth the buy; and you haven’t regretted that decision since then. You idly play with the strings of your crop top, tasting a lick of nostalgia on the roof of your mouth. 

“Yeah? Well, I can imagine you as straightlaced as ever in the Navy.”

He shrugged his shoulders without a definitive reply, the fire cracking by his feet. The sun was peeking over the horizon, so the light from the fire was casting a shadow on one half of his body, as if it was the light’s way of saying goodnight, “Is the American Navy more relaxed?”

You frown, “Uh? No? I don’t know. I wasn’t in the Navy, if that wasn’t easy to tell.”

He was about to reply to your sarcastic remake before whipping his head to his left, listening as he usually does. Tense, he looked like a dog when he did that, you think. A cute beagle. A flurry of memories of your past pets scurry in your head, and you blink hard twice to erase the pang of loneliness you felt. It wasn’t the time for this. He squints his eyes, as if he was concentrating, before relaxing his shoulders and laying back against the stump. 

“You aren’t going to get that?” You ask, curious as to why he hadn't decided to run off for whatever his ears would pick up. 

“It was nothing,” he simply said, leaving no room for disputement.

“I should expose you as a fraud,” you taunt, flicking a stray hair on your forehead.

“Right, and I’ll tell everyone you secretly smell your dog's breath when you think no one is looking,” Ukyo patted the fire with his foot as it was dying out, and he sorted the meat for the both of you. The temperature surrounding you two has dropped a peg or two, but neither of you comment on it. 

“I don’t!” You lie, squishing your eyebrows together to evidently expose your displeasure with his ill humor. 

“I won’t, if you do me a favor,” he says, handing you a meat kabob. 

You quirk an eyebrow, slowly reaching for the offer of food, “So demanding already, and you’ve only been my older brother for a few minutes.” 

He makes a show of pulling his cap down, hiding his eyes to cool his demeanor. You wave around your snack to draw his attention back at you, now intently intrigued with his request. 

“I want to hear you sing.”

You were taken aback. Blinking at him dumbly, you fight back the seams of sarcastic comments that popped into your head. It felt weird to be asked to sing, when that is your job in the first place, but you feel a mix of bashfulness, since he asked in a frankly matter. You raised your hands up, as if you were preparing to say something but it poofed out of your mind the last second.”Huh?”

“The ones you sing to yourself. Not the ones I hear you sing to others,” he’s eating without a care of the world, and you’re fighting the urge to slap his snack out of his hand so he could look at you properly.

Clipped, you let the edge of your tone poke his nonchalant attitude: “I’m sorry, do I work for you?” 

He shakes his head, “No.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. His request wasn’t what you were anticipating, but at least it wasn’t weird. “But almost all the songs you’ve heard me sing were in Spanish. Do you even understand what I’m singing?”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like listening to them.”

“So I just sing to you whenever then?” 

“Whenever you want. It’s just for tonight,” he said, tossing aside his half eaten kabob. You idly twirl yours, not bothering to take a bite into the now-cool meat. Maybe if it were barbacoa you’d feel more inclined to eat. It’s a shame really, that you haven’t been able to enjoy the delicacies you took for granted in the past. Mmmh, you can practically smell it already, but you aren’t sure if the Japanese even eat a cow's brain and/or cheeks periodically. Their whole diet is centered around fish and rice, if you remember the crash course you attended correctly. 

You daydream. Barbacoa, tortas, flautas, tamales, etcetera etcetera. Each dish sails around in your reminiscence, making you fantasize their unique flavor you have yet seen replicated in the New World. Your mouth waters when you do. It tasted like home, morning walks in the city, and parties in the edge of town your parents would forbid you from going. The air, sweet from the rain. Pink satin sheets and luminescent lights. Humid weather and hot temperatures that wither. Constant chatter wherever you go. Scattered showers and street lights that glow. 

It hurts that all your memories were once upon a time. It hurts knowing that, even then, you were willing to give that up. It hurts that under the faux glamour and plastic fame you achieved, you’ve always felt tired of playing the same games.

“So I can just sing to you right here, right now?” You ask, reeling back your hedonistic desires with an edge of sass leaking onto your voice.

He nods, displaying no offense while repeating his last statement, “Whenever you want.”

Tilting your head, you ponder on what type of song he’d want to listen to. Now that he has admitted to peeping on you, you wonder which songs he’s heard you sing before. Maye? Selena? Los Tigres Del Norte? 

You scrunch your nose, unwilling to sing a few _corridos_ at the moment. If you were going to sing a random song to Ukyo, you’d at least _want_ to sing the song yourself. Afterall, he said he wants you to sing a song that you don’t sing to others, and the songs you sing to yourself generally had a drop of fondness, whether it was for the musician or the lyrics; so it wouldn’t make sense to pluck a meaningful song out of thin air. I’d be like a slap in the face for the artist and yourself. 

But...what to sing?

It should be in English, so Ukyo could properly listen to it, and it should fit the dull atmosphere. It should be a song that reflects what the two of you might be feeling. At least, what you think he’s feeling. Sometimes, Ukyo could be so serious, but teasing and playful in the next. It makes it difficult to piece together what he has in his head, but considering the circumstances, it’s reasonably so. The both of you were spectators in a game. You both watch, aware of the dynamic of power balanced on unspoken rules and backhanded relationships. 

Tsukasa happened to be a player in said game. An anti-hero, in his own way; but you’re confident this hero didn’t deserve his happy ending. He was a living paradox; He treats you and everyone else he has revived with the utmost of care; He is able to ice your pumping heart, and make you sweat at the mere mention of him. He practically towers over you with the height of a drumming mountain, and freezes you with a stare that promises to kill you. It irritated you that he is able to terrify you to the very core of your soul; but here we were, giving you peace and freedom for the exchange of work and humility, all while maintaining order with his presence alone. Keen, strong, and attentive. For someone with amazing abilities, you wonder what made him choose a path of destruction. You remember the statue he crushed vividly. It was of a child, not even past the age of eight, you’re sure. They were so tiny. Tiny hands, feet, and body. _Innocente._ They had a smile so wide that it warmed your very heart. And wasn’t that what he was always milling about? About how the innocent and young will take back the land that was no ones theirs to begin with? What a hypocrite.

This could’ve been what your parents felt when they decided to leave _Mexico_ . They saw that their country’s government and criminals were one of the same, and they simply knew that the country wasn’t safe enough. In areas like _Tepito_ , where _narcos_ and other gang-related activities are held, the government wasn’t shy at revealing the cards it held; so it shouldn’t be a surprise that they decided that migrating to another country was the better option. They didn’t hesitate to cross the border to leave their home and family behind, but they must’ve been terrified. No secure careers or housing. No friends or family to lean back to. No cushion they could land on if things fly south. Just a suitcase of clothes and paperwork and a couple of _pesos_ they scraped together. How cruel. Maybe it was your parents' experience that made you so weary of Tsukasa’s authority over others. Spiritually, the stress they carried was passed onto you. 

“Any song?” You ask, hesitantly, leaning towards him as you cross your arms. 

“Yes,” he stressed with a slither of a ‘s’. 

“Ok,” you take one bite of your cold kabob, steadying yourself, “I got one.”

Ukyo doesn’t move from his spot, but his fingers flex, so you know he’s as eager as you are to listen to you sing. You thrum your fingers, echoing the notes of the guitar accompaniment. It was a shame you didn’t have one, since you have no clue how to make one yourself, but something was better than nothing. You tap your foot alongside your air guitar, nodding your head with each definitive tap of the beat. _Mama_. You feel the goosebumps rise up, you’re breath quickening, and shoulders tightening as the next verse comes to play. You’re one long string of tension, ready to coil up and stretch with each quarter beat. You breathe, recalling a song you used to listen to:

_Looking through your photos_

_I imagine all of your dreams_

_I will always wonder_

_Who you really were before me_

_What did you lose?_

_I hope, nothing too soon_

_Mama,_ how did it feel to leave a childhood home to flee to another? Is what you’re feeling right now equal to theirs? Frustrated and alone? Wobbling around others in hopes they no one would harass you? Your parent’s left everything for something better, but was it even given to them? There was no guarantee. There was no man with a checkered flag to signal the finish line. What courage did they have that you don’t have within yourself?

_Mama, who were you_

_Before your man_

_Know you had some of those_

_Bigger plans_

Ukyo doesn’t pry. He never does. He never needs to. It’s like he can read you like a book, reading each sentence word by word. Solemnly, you began singing the next verse with a dash of umph, dishing out the naive little girl act you know you needed at the moment. But before you can smoothly glide into the next verse, you’re suddenly aware of the tears swelling up your eyes. 

_1989 on 85th and Lefferts Ave_

_CVS lipstick, you would_

_Go to school and work at the bank_

_Many men were chasing_

_But you'd never have it that way_

_What kind of tears did you cry_

_On your wedding day?_

The both of you are going through so much, and you aren’t sure if you can keep up your act for so long. Ukyo was good at distancing himself with his job, but you’re prone at letting your thoughts dip their toes in your subconscious, teaching them how to swim and frolic. Like now, they always creep their way up your door. They pound and pound. Demanding your attention when you least want to give. Because that is always what you do, you give and give and give until nothing is left of you anymore. Until your hopes and dreams are sucked up dry and all that is left is the stupid, impulsive idiot that you are. 

_Mama, who were you_

_Before your man_

_Know you had some of those_

_Bigger plans_

Your teeth begin to grind, but you can still sing out the last few ‘oh’s in the outro, reeling back your philosophical small-talks. The sadness still lingers, regardless, like an aftertaste. With a gasp, you let your voice echo out into the woods; and you face Ukyo, fully expecting him to make a comment about your choice of song. But he’s looking at you with a strange look on his face, and you aren’t sure what to make of it. Awe? Surprise? Amazement? The wind blows a particularly hard breeze, and you suppress a shudder from both the cold and Ukyo’s gaze. “Not bad, huh?”

He doesn’t stop _looking_ at you, and you’re drowning in a sea of green. Your skin felt like it was being peeled back, exposing you bare. The loneliness and angst resurfacing, alongside the distinct feel of feral starvation. Starving for his skin on yours. Starving for any sign of comfort. 

You wave your hand over his face to gain his attention. Startled, he blinks away the...whatever it was, and tilts his head thoughtfully, tapping a finger onto his chin thoughtfully, but it’s exaggerated and you chuckle at his antics- albeit a bit forced. Your shoulders won’t relax. “It was good enough.”

You groan loudly, head thrown back in a playfully-exasperated way. “God, _nothing_ pleases you,” you whine. 

For the first time that day, he laughs. You have a hard time laughing alongside him. 

“Hey, can I ask for something too?”

Ukyo froze, probably expecting a strange request like the one from earlier. 

“Um, is it alright if I touch you?” He gives you a blank stare, and you dimly smile, unsure. “Not in like, a weird way, but in a uh normal way? Like, I’m asking if it’s alright to hug you and stuff, like normal friends-slash-siblings do. ‘Cuz that’s what we are now. Nothing weird. It’s just that-”

“Ok stop,” you stop your awkward fumbling and you peered up at him through your long eyelashes. You blush, suddenly self-conscious. You pull the end of your skirt down to your knees to ease the embarrassment flushing on your cheeks. This was probably too much to ask. He’s already given you so much, but you’re feeling particularly needy today. You felt touch-starved after all the inner turmoil you’ve been bottling up, and it isn’t helping that it has been spilling out of its container after your run-in with Tsusaka. You’re more than aware about the nostalgia and pessimism that keeps grinding against you. You need help.

“That’s ok, but did you have to ask it that way?” 

“It was just a question,” you mumble, rubbing your hand on your bare leg. You’re weakly aware that the two of you weren’t alone, since you hear the chatter in the distance from workers signalling that the night was creeping up soon; but you’re determined to ignore the possibility of anyone seeing the two away from camp among the disarray of sleepy campers. Instead, you hyperfocus on your blush, your abrupt glumness, and tears. And Ukyo seems to notice it also, because he edges closer and holds your hand. No questions asked. But that was all it took to your adamant stress to fill up to the brim.

You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your cheeks. The humor that you were quick with was dulling, and you grasped Ukyo with a bearhug. This time you didn’t have to look at him to feel puny. You could feel his larger build soothing your petite frame. Head on his broad shoulder, skinny arms wrapped around his massier torso, legs resting against his. You cried quietly, like you always do. Tears were rolling down, down, down to his chest. They stain his yellow coat with brown, wet spots, and you sob shakinly. You dig your face into his neck, not willing in letting him see your vulnerability. 

Why is it that you were torn from running away from everything and feeling nostalgic of the past? Why can’t you ever make up your mind? 

...Why couldn't Tsukasa have broken your statue?

You weep. Ukyo rubs your back tenderly, and you shut your eyes and let yourself reel in the feel of his large hand. The other- his right one- is placed a little below the back of your neck, holding you. How ironic, for someone who was willing to snap his hand in half earlier, you sure are soaking in his affection and reassurance now. Sniffling, you crawl half-way into his lap. He shuffles his posture, spreading his legs to leave you plenty of room for yourself in case you ever wanted to leave his hold. You feel the twinge of gratefulness in your heart; and you cry a little harder, feeling undeserving of his kindness and civility, but also guilty for the constant whiplash in your head. You’ve always had a somber attitude compared to others, but what you’re feeling right now isn’t your hallmark of gloominess. You’re sure Ukyo knows that, and that’s probably why he’s comforting you. He knows you need this as much as he does. 

He doesn’t say anything the whole while; and you’re sure if you had the courage to look, you’ll see the usual blank expression he has on his face for moments like these, like the one you saw at Tsukasa’s desolation. It’s his trademark at this point, and you grieve. Grieve for Ukyo and you. Someone has to. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, after a few minutes bawling your eyes out, voice soft, “I don’t know why I got like that all of a sudden.”

“It’s ok,” he whispers, content with rubbing your back and laying his head against yours. You blink sleepily, feeling depleted from your abrupt mood swings. The both of you must look like a couple of idiots. 

“Take me to bed, please?”

He gave out an annoyed sigh under his breath. But he begins to curl his arms to princess-carry you anyway, taking one quick inhale once he lifts you. You stare at the night sky, painted a dark denim blue with plastered powdered chalk.

“Did you really not like the song?” 

A pause. His cap obscures the view of his face, and you hope he doesn’t look down on you with a vacant stare.

“I liked it.”

You give him a soft hmm, not bothering in giving him a proper response. Contently, you snuggle into the crook of his arm, eager to sleep away your troubles; but not without spotting a flash of purple among the tall grass. You blink once, twice, before falling asleep, never arriving at your room awake.

  
  


In your dreams, you meet a queen and king and their newborn daughter. The cooks and courtiers. A jester. Twelve fairies. And one lone pixie, different from the rest, feral for retribution. You don’t fall under their spell like the rest, and you watch the castle grow weary with age. The hedges engulf the stone walls, coiling itself like a snake upon the house owners and workers. Time flies by. You speak to the almost-dead bodies to keep yourself company. One day, you meet a prince, blond with familiar emerald eyes; but he’s not here for you. You guide him up the tower, where the anemic princess rests upon the dusty mattress. He’s trying for twins, he says. 

When you wake up, you blink away the crisp exhaustion on your eyes and mind. The darkness in your room was comforting for your roused body despite its intensity, and you’re grateful that Uyko was kind enough to tuck you away on your bedding. Your clothes were angled in awkward positions from the wiggling in your sleep, but the quilt he slid onto you was overrode the discomfort with its cozy softness, and so you decided to leisurely doze away your sluggish laziness. And yet, you can hear the stomping of a few guards and Minami down the hall. You frown with annoyance, since her voice was particularly too high pitch for the morning, only to realize she has never woken up earlier than you. Well shit, now you really needed to get up. Yawning, you arch your back to relieve the pressure hanging low on your back, stretching your arms and legs drowsily. The quilt slipped off and the cool air in the cave crept on your newly exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. 

With all the willpower you could muster, you roll yourself off the bed, landing heavily onto the freezing ground. You shiver from the intensity that crawls onto your skin. Against your better judgement, you lay there for a while, pretending that the responsibilities waiting for you didn’t exist. No smiles that ache your cheeks, no songs to sing, and no Tsukasa. But before you could dwell in your fantasies, a heavy ball of fur pounces upon you, and you squeeze out an ‘oomph!’ as your bare stomach hits the rock beneath you. _Satanas_ , oblivious to your condition, began to lick wherever he could reach, and you laughed as his nails tickled your sides. 

“Ah, _Satanas_ , no!” You complain, knowing very well he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. He begins chewing your hair, as if to reaffirm your thoughts. Blindly, you reach for his muzzle in hopes of freeing your hair from his incisors. The wagging of his tail becomes more intense with your interference, and you feel it slap your back with joyful intensity, quickly losing interest of your hair in favor of the fingers you provided for him. You laugh with more vigor once he begins to chew on your pinky. His delight and glee was contagious, it seems. Despite _Satanas_ crushing you with his body, you couldn’t help but feel weightless. Maybe it was from your pup friend or because of the good cry you had yesterday- well, you’re more than aware it’s a mixture of the two, but considering you cried in front of Ukyo, you feel a twinge of embarrassment and shame. You can’t believe you cried like that, but you decide to ignore your self-consciousness in favor of not dwelling too deep in your thoughts. 

You sigh, contently. Thank you, _Mama._

You carefully nudge the puppy off of you, and you crawl your way towards the window adjacent to your bedding. You stand up unwillingly, and you roll up the make-shift curtain blocking the sunlight’s path. The light seeps into your room, revealing your bare room. A simple bedding and a wooden chest. You run a hand down your face, grimacing at the oily texture of your skin. You need to wash your face for the day...or take a bath. Yeah, a bath sounds good. You smile approvingly. 

With a few steps, you open the chest with a creak, rummaging through its contents in search of a replacement of clothing. Wool, knife, dagger, a rock you thought looked cool, ah! You pull out your findings, another set of your outfit, a halter crop top and an A-line skirt. Both a boring beige. You nod, satisfied, before reaching towards the bottom of the chest to pull out a hair tie a few girls were passing around. A bath this morning wouldn’t be so bad. The last one you had was the day before yesterday, and you’re unwilling to leave the layer of oil on your skin and hair to linger any longer. You feel like a lobster coated in butter. Hopefully, Ukyo takes the hint and ditches his post before you reach the riverbank near camp. Afterall, it was a well-known secret that only the women bathed there. You snicker, imagining the expression on his face when he realizes where you were going. 

_Satanas_ barks, and you’re forced to zone your attention back at the pup, curious to what has gained his attention. You lift your head up, flapping away a few fuzzy, stray curls, only to spot _Satanas_ crouch his lower half of his body towards the floor. You gasp, letting go of whatever was in your hands, instantly aware of what he was about to do. With the speed of a college student with anxiety turning in late work, you snatch the pup off the ground only to speed-run out of your room and towards a grassy patch of land. You slip past a few dwellers (“Sorry, excuse me”), who look at you bewildered, begging _Satanas_ to hold it in (“Please no. Please no. Please no.”). 

All-in-all, it was a great way to start the day. 

After securing a spot for him to do his business in, you heave a sigh of relief. You take notice of the sun high above you, mindful of its blazing glare. The mornings were never as humid as it is now. No breakfast for you today, it seemed. On the other hand, you were glad you made it just in time ( _Satanas_ biting your ankle as thanks), the disappointment was overshadowed by triumph. _Satanas_ seemed to agree, considering the pure joy he emits simply peeing by your side. You pat his head, waiting for him to finish his business, before backtracking to your room to retrieve the items you dropped. Your desire for a bath tripled after the exhausting event, and you’re determined to have one before starting today. Leisurely, you collect what you need one-by-one, pushing away the pup before he bites whatever he deems worthy of chewing. The items you’ve dropped were first on the list, alongside a few undergarments Noshino gave you a while back. You blush, replaying the awkward incident in your mind’s eye. Seeing as your undergarments are a bright white, you were reluctant to wear them in case anyone took a peek of what you usually wear underneath your clothes. Shaking your head, you leave your room, focusing on sneaking past the guards that were monitoring the pathways, mindful of your items in one arm and _Satanas_ in the other. 

Thankfully, you and _Satanas_ reach your destination with no hassle, and you lightly place the squirming puppy onto the ground before tucking away your essentials near the rim of the river. _Satanas_ rolled around in the grass, playfully chewing on whatever he could, as always. You laugh at his antics before stepping into the water until you’re waist-deep in, trembling at its temperature. Cautiously, you make sure your hips were low enough to tie off your skirt so no peepers can spot anything, and you do the same with your top by dipping deeper into the river. You throw the wet clothes over your shoulder, a good distance away from the pup so he wouldn’t ruin them. Cranking your head back, it didn’t take long for you to relax. The daylight bathing you in warmth despite the contrasting cold water. You can feel the soreness of your muscles loosening, your body waking up by each stinging wave of cold water, and the remaining stress from yesterday chipping away. 

It’s truly a shame you couldn’t stay there forever. The sun was high, like you noticed earlier, meaning you slept through the morning and good hours of the day. If you don't begin your routine soon, someone will no doubt look for your whereabouts. Gingerly, you dunk the back of your head into the river, massaging your scalp as you do so. You weave out all the tangles and dirt that might’ve been collected yesterday, while making sure the tips of your toes don’t slip from the bottom of the bank. You sigh, today was going to be a hectic day, but it was worth it. Time spent with Ukyo is well spent. 

You blink up at the blue sky once more. The clouds were swirling above you, like sheep being herded. It was fitting, considering your current career choice. Taking a deep breath, you sink into the river again, unwilling to let go of your temporary haven. The swirls of blue flush past you, swishing your hair in all directions. You open your eyes. The water was stinging the rim of your eyes, and you blink a few times in order to clear the muddled view you gained. Breathing out from your nose, you push your legs up until they were pressed onto your chest, and you hold them in place. You huddle into a little ball, letting the flow of the river carry you wherever it wanted to for a few seconds. You play your little game until you plop up the water for a gulp of air, unwilling to suffocate. You jerk your head towards the pup, hoping he hasn’t left, but you spot him a few feet away from you. He was wagging his tail while whimpering, perhaps due to your dizzining trip. You splash water towards him, eager to see his reaction. He attempts to bite the water, eagerly surprising you. You laugh, waddling closer to him. He licks at the first chance he can get as soon as you reach him, and you playfully coo at him, but not before scooping a handful of water and thoroughly dousing him until his fur was a glistening black. The two of you go back and forth for a while, until you decide that maybe you should use this time to go ahead and change, no? Taking one last look at the pup, you nod in affirmation, as if he could read your mind. Quickly, you trot out of the water, squeezing your hair dry as you do so. Scanning the area, you make sure no one is peeping as you change. You slid on your skirt first, the waist of your skirt snagging on your thighs a little before relenting and sliding up their destination. Without missing a beat, you pull on your crop top, snapping the shoulder straps into place before scurrying away from the scene. 

You tie your hair up into a loose ponytail, pulling on a few stray curls because why not? It looked cute that way. With the way _Satanas_ eagerly whipped his tail around, you’re sure he was in agreement also. You wink at him, and tie on the usual hostler on your waist. After collecting your laundry and your bath essentials, you whistle at the pup, signaling to follow you as you walk back to camp. The grass underneath you stuck to the sole of your foot as you walked, like gum at the bottom of someone’s shoe. 

The trip back was uneventful. You walk back into your lounge, eager to dump your items away in the corner of your room. Oh, but your wet clothes will have to be given to someone so they can dry out with the rest of laundry. You cringe, glad that there were no recurring rumors of an underwear thief around camp. You’d be one of the first to know, after all. You tip-toe into your room, shoving a few leftover hair ties into its place in the chest. Trading them for the handmade dog collar and chew toys you made yesterday. Now in hand, you carefully place them onto one hand, so you could use the other to reach into the chest for your usual daggers. The tips of your fingers slide onto the unmistakable blade, and so you dig your arm in to pull out the twin weapons. Swiftly, you place them into your hostler. While you’re distracted, _Satanas_ impatiently tugs one toy out of your hand, the other two tumble away from your grip. You ignore his mischievous behaviour in favor of rummaging for the extra cloth you’re sure you hid away. After a few seconds, you find what was leftover from yesterday, and you sigh dreamily. What you’d give for some more colorful options. You’re at least 90% sure that the short-haired girl was the one who could possibly dye the textile around here, since she was primarily responsible for providing everyone an outfit. Would it be worth risking to ask for a favor from her? It’d be awkward to just skip over to her and ask her to help you, since it’s not like you’ve attempted to speak with her or acknowledge her presence overall. You glance at your sloppy dog collar, frowning at the few mistakes you’ve made. Ok maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try to ask her, but you should wait until you have more confidence to do so. 

Standing up straight, you neatly place the fabric and tools on your bed to remind yourself of your goal once you’ve finished your first round-up. Without wasting any more time, you hastily leave your room with a few dog toys (stained in slobber) in hand, and head off to the entrance of Tsukasa’s throne with _Satanas_. This time, you let your daydreams guide you towards your destination. 

The entrance of the cave was dark. It’s mouth was open, ready to eat you whole, and the shadows within were only beaconing you to tip-toe inside. You squint, trying to make out the outline of a throne, preferably without anyone perched on it. You don’t spot anything, so you take the first few steps inside, testing your luck. _Satanas_ not far behind.

You guessed correctly. No one was sitting on the cathedra. It was empty, like the rest of the cave. Your shoulders relax, no ticking bomb to deactivate today; but as you take a step back, a voice interrupts your relief. 

“He’s not here today.” 

You feel your jaw tense. Taking a peek over your shoulder, your nose tapped a wet stray of hair, and you noticed it was Nicky standing under the cave’s lip. She was holding a basket of what you recognize are daggers and stones. You feel the edge’s of your lips fight a frown. The other two mustn't be far off then. _Satanas_ barks, happy with her arrival, and he practically bounces towards her in a playful manner. She smiles prettily, bending low enough so her skirt- there’s another word for it, but you can’t quite remember it- won’t ride up to pet the wet pup. 

“D’you know when he’ll be back?” 

She shakes her head, looking at you as she pets _Satanas_ , “He’s with Minami. He should be back later.” 

Ah, has it really been a week since Gen was resurrected? No, it’s barely day six. He’s usually more punctual. He must really be impatient, but for what? To kill Senku or to become a self-proclaimed God?

You smile thinly, “I see. Thanks anyway.”

She gives you a once-over, as everyone here has a habit in doing so. You wonder if you look like a demon to them. Dark in completion and features. The twin curls on your temple peek up like cowlicks, giving you horns. All that is missing is a tail and trident. 

“I was sent to give you this, actually,” perking up out of your thoughts, you watch her fumble with the basket in her arms. She carefully picks out one blade. You raise your eyebrow, unsure why this one specifically is for you, but you notice the handle was cushioned with different material compared to the rest, and the blade itself was shinier. It was recently made, and the gleam of the blade suggested that it was made with extra care too. Just for you. You wonder, did Tsukasa ask anyone to make you another dagger? Is this a sign or some twisted form of an award?

“Thank you,” you say plainly, not wanting to give your thoughts away. So they wouldn’t get in the way, you tie the two toys in your hands onto the belt of the hostler neatly. Once you’re done, you reach for the dagger, savoring the shiver that trails down your spine. 

She nods, her braids bounce on her shoulders as she does so. You nod back, hoping she’d leave. Which she does, but only after you both hear the bellow of a man nearby. She frowns towards the voice’s direction, sighing under her breath. Kindly, she sets the pup off her knees and begins to march off towards the boisterous yell. That must be the boy, his vigor strength reflected in his voice. The girl shouldn’t be too far away, unless she was doing what you hoped she wasn’t doing. Squaring your shoulders, you follow Nicky, hoping your brave bravado wouldn’t exhaust itself before meeting the short-haired girl- but not before snapping your fingers to gain the puppy’s attention. 

In the meantime, you scan the surrounding area, making a good show of doing your job. You wave, ignoring the men who blush under your gaze, and say your ‘hellos’ and ‘see you later’s’. You can’t spy the girl you’re anxious to meet, despite eyeing a glance at the _very_ obnoxious boy standing by Nicky, grinning from ear to ear. She doesn’t smile with him, and she’s too far away to be able to read the words she speaks with a bob of her head. You toss the dagger in your left hand to your right, playing hot-potato with yourself until you find the girl.

After a few minutes of standing in the same position, you confirm she isn’t anywhere in the area. You might’ve missed her earlier, but it doesn’t matter now. At least you can give yourself another day to prep yourself. Not that you had much time…

Shaking your head, you decide to continue your round, aware of the few droplets plopping on your cheeks and nape. _Satanas_ doesn’t mind, as you can tell with the wag of his tail. You smile, just knowing that today was going to be your lucky day. 

“Lilith-chan~” 

Spoke too soon. 

_Satanas_ wags his tail at the newcomer from beside you, clearly pleased with the turn of events. He coils his body into a tiny, black donut to look at the Mentalist, as he likes to call himself, and he yips happily. _Traitor_ . You crank your neck to see Gen elegantly slide into your personal space, as if it were the most natural thing to do. _Satanas_ begins to bite and nip at the bottom hem of Gen’s pants with gusto, content in playing with the boy- you would say man, but he’s still nineteen- in his own puppy way. You whine, leaning down to wiggle the pseudo chew toy on your hostler at _Satanas_ , hoping to catch his attention with it. The copper-colored eyes glance at it, but he growls and resumes tugging the fabric caught on his teeth, ignoring the toy. Gen chuckles, waving off the puppy’s disobedience. You stand back up, spine straight with apprehensive eyes pointed straight towards your guest. 

“Do you need something?” You ask, noting the garments he was wearing. You haven’t seen anyone wear anything like it, and you wonder if he had to ask for it exactly. The purple suited his villain-esque, Cruella De Vil hair; and for a brief moment, you let yourself imagine him surrounded by 101 _Satanas_. 

He smiles, “Lilith-chan, what do you mean? We haven’t had a chance to chat yet after all this time!” 

His English had no trace of a Japanese accent, as clear as Ukyo and Nicky’s is. Perhaps Tsukasa is purposely reviving those who speak English? When you intentionally arrived in the country, you hadn’t met anyone else who spoke the language. You were given a guide with some written instructions you could barely make out. Would be nice to learn the language. You’re sure that if you beg, Ukyo would help you learn. It’s not like you have nothing better to do but to wallow in your teenage angst. You let go of the chew toy in favor of playing with the new dagger, and you notice Gen’s smile tighten just a tad. 

He cocks his head, regardless, waiting for your answer. 

“I guess I’ve been a little busy,” you reply. You begin to walk again, expecting him to follow. _Satamas_ , bored with the boy’s attire, eagerly follows you to leap up and try to undo the knot on your hip instead. You sashay your hips in response, eager to tease the growing pup. Gin trails behind the both of you, quiet but not without the smile he had on before. “I usually do my thing or hangout with _pajarito_.”

He nods, quick to dodge the bouncy pup when he gets particularly aggressive towards the Mentalist. “Pajarito?”

You lean your head back and flashed him your pearly whites. Gen has been the only person so far to try to speak Spanish, but his accent was thick and coated with a hint of confusion, unlike his English. Hmm, perhaps you should be the one to give Spanish lessons. Languages have always had a funny way of weeding itself in the most unexpected places. Amused, you correct yourself.

“I mean Ukyo. I usually find him brooding on a tree, so I decided he needed a name that suited him.” 

You blatantly feign ignorance at the possibility of Ukyo watching the interaction, and decided to keep his nickname an innocent secret for you to keep. You’re sure he wouldn’t mind, considering his temperament, but it was fun to pretend he’d make a face at you and Gen. 

“A princess and her bird, huh?”

Gin taps your out of your thoughts, and you bounce back into reality. _Satanas_ was pawing at your knees, whimpering, and clearly begging for a chew toy. He was nipping at the edge of your skirt, while his nails left bright red trails of scratches from the bottom of your thigh down to your bony knees. You clear your throat to clear out emotions swirling inside you, and you decide to untie the toy to ease _Satanas’_ suffering. So much for not wanting it earlier.

“Princess?” You ask, quirking an eyebrow at him.

The boy’s smile morphed into a knowing smirk. 

“Oh, you didn’t know?” 

He acts shocked. Mouth gaping open, eyes wide and overbearing, and you feel a twinge of annoyance strike a chord within your mind. He can’t seriously believe he can fool you with his half-assed performance. A bubble of disappointment surfaces in your heart. 

“Everyone around here knows that Ukyo calls you a princess.”

 _Satanas_ began to bite your ankles, so you quickly tug a toy out of its knot to keep him sedated. But the words that came out of the Mentalist’s mouth finally hit you right in the stomach. 

“Wait, he what!?”

You drop the toy into the ground right at the moment the black pup decides to jump for it, and you wince at the teeth that dig into your fingers. Frowning, you look down at the puppy, a scolding quick on your tongue. But you hold it in, and instead decide this was the perfect time to distract him. You grab the once-white-but-now-brown toy in your hand, and you bend down to wave it in front of the puppy. He takes the bait, taking one large bite out of the toy before beginning to tug the edges out of your hand until you both are participating in the mini tug-o-war. You hear Gin’s deep chuckles, but you’re unsure whether he was laughing at _Satanas’_ energetic streak or your exclamation of disbelief from Ukyo’s nickname. Which, in your defense, is unfair. Your nickname was completely harmless. His made you feel childish. You pout, not caring if the Mentalist was watching. 

“Hmm? I thought you would like your boyfriend’s nickname,” he says, casually inching his way closer to you. 

“He is _not_ my boyfriend,” you reply, clicking your tongue at the ‘t’ at the end of the word not. You raise your chin high, and give the Mentalist a disdainful look with the quirk of your eyebrow. _Satanas_ grew bored of the tug-o-war and decided your ankles were worth chewing again, so you tossed the toy away in hopes of him chasing after it. It worked, thankfully, and he waddled his way to the toy to tear it apart with renewed excitement, as if it were his first time seeing it. “That’s gross. He’s my brother, you know.” 

Gen froze, his signature smile stuck in place. The corners of your lips threaten to break into a grin, but you quickly smoothed them out, carefully not giving yourself away. Instead, you choose to casually shrug with finality, as if it were a common fact that you and Ukyo were siblings. 

“Your brother...?” The edge of his voice was steeping near a cliff. 

You smile widely, as if what you just said was basic common sense, “Yeah, he gets his looks from our mom, and I got mine from my dad. He doesn’t like talking about it.” Hopefully, Ukyo wouldn’t mind a white lie or two, but it would be a shame if you passed an opportunity like this. 

The Mentalist nods his head, acknowledging your words, “So does that mean I have a chance?”

The smug grin on your face twitched. What the fuck? To think it’ll come from Gen of all people. Mentally, you feign a gag, unamused by the shrewd tone of his voice. You should beat his twink ass for even thinking it was appropriate to ask that question. Straightening your posture, you focus your attention towards the boy standing beside you. Surely he isn’t here just to flirt with you, but you can’t imagine him asking you for a favor or passing on a few of his responsibilities onto you as you’ve observed him do, since he could’ve easily done so long ago. What could he want then?

“Hmm,” you check him out for show, “Maaaybe. I do like tall guys, but don’t tell _Pajarito_ that.”

Gen laughs at your remark, grinning cheekily, “No offense, Lilith-chan, but I’m sure all of us are taller than you.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at him, “Are you instigating something?”

The Mentalist raises his hands in mock-defeat, revealing the palms of his pale, skinny hands from his large sleeves. No callus in sight. No wonder he would actively slip by his work; he isn’t accustomed to physical labor. Still, you take pleasure in his casual demeanor. It wasn’t often that someone made an effort to talk to you- damn the language barrier- and there were only two people who would actively talk to you. It wouldn’t hurt to see where _this_ was going.

“‘Instigating’?,” He asks, “Not a word I’d expect from a pop star.”

You place your hands on your hips, sending him a glare, “Oh? So me being a singer automatically makes me dumb or is it because I’m an American star? And I wasn’t a pop star, I write bedroom pop, got it? Bed. Room. Pop.”

“Sorry~,” He singsongs, “Not a big fan of pop.”

You playfully punched his shoulder, conscious of his effort to change the topic. You try to bring it back, “Ah, it’s alright. It’s not like I’m not the same way. I’ve always wondered whether there was some truth in that the Japanese were shorter than Americans, but obviously that isn’t true. I guess it is my fault for even thinking like that in the first place.”

“You have such a way with words,” Gen teased you, waving a delicate hand in the air.

You snort, casually leaning on a nearby tree, the muscle on your abdomen stretching under his watchful eye, “Oops, did that offend you? But I mean, I _was_ hoping there’d be more people my height.” 

Gen throws his head back, barking out a laugh you weren’t expecting from him. It sounded genuine, but it was laced with something between arrogance and pure joy. He was like a boy who knew something no one else did, and he was relishing in his secret. “Is that why you like parading around Ukyo? Are you a bro-con?” 

This time it was your turn to laugh, “Oh god no. He’s sweet and kind. There are all these horror stories about big brothers being the worst and all, but I don’t let those scare me away, y’know? Besides, y'all just weirdly tall.” 

“Yeah?” Gen dips his head down close to yours, his gray eyes boring into yours. The black zigzag line drawn on his face illuminating the intensity of his eyes. If Ukyo is a gentle reader, reading under the shade of a pink tree in the spring. Gen is shredding each page in a clipped office, piece by piece. He’s gliding the pages with astonishing speed, curling your spine greedily. Swallowing you whole. It’s like he _knows_. 

“Yeah,” you straighten up, stepping closer to him until your faces are a few inches apart. His eyes sparkle with delight. “See?”

You measure the distance between your shoulders and his. There was a difference of about four to five inches. His skinny shoulder was curved towards you, and you had to resist the urge to snap his body like a toothpick. 

“Hmm,” Gen laughs, as if the atmosphere between the two of you wasn’t freezing up, “I _do_ see. I was so sure Americans would be taller too.”

“Well, most are. I just got unlucky,” you pout, flashing him your best puppy-eyed stare underneath your long lashes. Alongside, you idly play with the tip of your dagger on your hip, acting anxious. It was a tad aggravating that he is able to play along with you, but you’re just as willing to participate if it meant understanding a lick of his character. Cunning, perceptive, manipulative. Yet, there wasn’t a trace of malice from him. Clearly, he wasn’t here to administer a which-does-Tsukasa-like-better-contest or a which-of-us-is-stronger-contest unlike the resident knuckleheads were prone to doing (you’re sure your win is secure for the latter). He’s here to analyze you, you realize. Just like how you analyze him in your free time, but this time the both of you are meeting face-to-face. It’s a cowboy showdown you’ve seen in Looney Tunes. _This town ain’t big enough for the both of us._

His gray eyes flicker between your black eyes and black dagger. You ignore it in favor of examining him further. Originally, you were joking about his body being a toothpick, but now there is a tint of truth in your mocking. His purple overcoat was flaunting an air of grace and finesse, making his arms appear thinner than they were. Similarly, the turtleneck wrapped around his neck had the same effect, like a wrapped meal waiting to be stripped open. He had the physique of a noble while yours was of a stable boy. Standing beside him, the scars on your tan, brawny arms were eye-catching beside his smooth, soft-looking skin. 

“It’s a real shame,” he teased, bouncing back into his previous demeanour. He shifts both his hands upward and shakes his head in a ‘what can you do?’ way, before smiling at you. 

You smile too, stepping out of his space in favor of returning your attention to your surroundings. Your new playmate was distracting you from your duties. You scan the vicinity, grateful to spot nothing amis. _Satanas_ rolling around in the grass doesn’t count. 

“It is, isn't it? I’m a little jealous.”

A moment of silence envelops the two of you. Content, you walk along your usual trail again, knowing he will follow you like he did previously. With his long legs, it doesn’t take him long to reach the space of your right, and the two of you walk side-by-side the rest of the way of your unanticipated tour. You occasionally point towards a landmark here and there, commenting on whatever you were interested in, and he would add in a quip of his own. The jailhouse, guards that weren’t worth listening to, cliques you’ve spotted. You fed him noteworthy info without being overbearing with _Satanas_. 

“You know what’s funny?” You ask, waving at a few fans that were waving at you from afar. 

“Hmm?” He hums in question, tilting his body towards you as he sneaks a peek at a girl that passed by. 

“I’ve seen people with dyed hair and all, but not like yours. How’d you do it?”

Gen gives you an amused look, “That’s a secret.”

Bewildered, you scrunch your eyebrows together, “What makes it a secret?”

“The fact that I don’t tell people?”

You roll your eyes, “Ok, not what I meant. Were you born with it like that or something?”

He laughs, running a hand through his fringe, “And if I said yes?”

“I wouldn’t believe you.”

“You’ve figured out what you’d feel pretty quickly.”

“Was I not supposed to? I can’t help what I feel, no one can.”

Gen smirks, “Now you’re being philosophical?”

“Can you not change the subject? I just wanted to know how you dyed your hair.” 

“And I told you. It’s a secret.”

“Fine, be like that. It was just a question.”

He tuts, shaking his head, “You’re so nosy.”

You bristle, and a spark lights up in Gen’s eyes, so you know that he caught your annoyance. You fight back the profanities that threaten to slip out and the temptation to falcon punch him out of the planet. “I’m really not.”

“You are,” He tilts his head, hiding his right eye under a streak of white. 

Taking a deep breath, you ignore the gleam of his eye. You look over your shoulder, wanting to glance at _Satanas_ , so you’re sure he isn’t disturbing anyone, only to spot the girl you’ve been avoiding these past few days. She was wearing her usual get-up, happily talking to someone who was passing onto her seams of cloth. Gen twisted his body too, probably wondering what you were staring at. 

“Look who’s nosy now?” You mock, shoving his shoulder roughly, bringing his attention back at you. 

“You know, the way you talk is probably why you don’t have friends here.”

You raise both of your eyebrows, mouth agape. “What?” you hiss, “The way I talk? It’s not like many of you here know what I’m even saying in the first place. It’s practically a miracle you do.” 

“Oh, so that’s why you’re always staring at her. She doesn’t speak English.”

You scoff, acting snobbily under his gaze. His remarks were pushing you to keep the casual act up. “I do _not_ stare,” you lie. 

Gen’s grin grows wider, “Awe, you’re so shy. Who would’ve thought?” 

You couldn’t fight off the blush that blooms on your cheeks and ears. “Don’t you have anything better to do by now,” you point up at the sun high in the sky, “Isn’t time for your lunch date with Minami?”

“Is this your way of asking me on a date?”

You blush a deeper shade of red, “No!” 

You huff, stomping away to brood in your frustration. You hear his laughter from behind you, but you don’t give yourself a peek at him. You’re content in snubbing him until he apologizes. 

“Her name is Yuzuriha, you know,” more laughter, “You could’ve just asked.”

“I know her name,” you lie again, going against your word to peek at him. 

He nods at you with a look that said he doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t say anything further. Yuzuriha. It’s a pretty name. You wonder if it had any special meaning, like yours. It also makes you wonder what her friend’s name is, since they are almost always together anyway. Should you go after her? Ugh but, you never even considered that she might not know English either, so if she doesn’t, it’d be plain awkward. You’d need to make a nice impression, at least. She would be the second girl you’d befriend, if Noshino even counts as a friend. 

You stop walking, noticing that the two of you were walking back to the beginning of the tour. You lick your lips and swing your dagger, needing to do something to appease the boredom you’re dreading. You make a mental list, wondering what items you’ll need to take in your impending trip. Gen wouldn’t be able to provide anything other than his “mental skills”, so I’d be up to you to fight and hunt for the both of you. You’re going to need to figure out which of your weapons you’ll want to take. A spear would be nice to fish with, but you aren’t sure whether you’d like it short or not. Two throwing knives and two daggers will be good also. You pat your thighs, feeling the smooth metal under your fingertips. Three daggers, check. 

“Are you taking anything with you?” You ask. Gen gives you a look, but says nothing. “When we leave, I mean.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

You raise an eyebrow, but say nothing further. The two of you kept walking until you reached the end of the tour. At that point, you gave a hastily goodbye to Gen, and went off to complete your to-do list. 

Before you knew it, days had gone by. By day 8, you knew it was time to say goodbye when Noshino gave you a wobbly smile. 

Gen stood beside you without a hint of a weapon or supplies. You, on the other hand, were carrying a duffle bag filled with rations, canteens, and the few chew toys you fabricated for this trip. You also carried a spear and throwing knives that you requested. Better safe than sorry. 

Ukyo stood across from you, behind Tsukasa. He kept his expression vacant, but not unkind. He nodded once towards you. A wish of good luck. You wish you could run towards him, hug him, cry and throw a fit; but you take in one calm breath, and looked fixedly at Tsukasa. He was the same as usual. The personification of stormy clouds. He wished you both safe travels, and you held in a snort to keep yourself from getting in trouble. Gen smiles, not giving anyone a second glance as he walks away and heads towards your destiny. _Satanas_ doesn’t wait for you either. He goes after the man doned in purple, eager to explore. 

You take one last glance at Ukyo. From far away he looks like an angel, but it doesn’t stop you from turning around and aligning yourself with Gen. 

_Once upon a time..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again for reading! As always, leave a comment or constructive criticism. And any music lyrics added in this chapter are NOT mine. All credit goes to my queens, Lily Allen and Raveena, so google them and listen to some badass music lol.


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